Chasing the Flame
by Allseer
Summary: An AU story inspired by its creator sleepyoldvamp on DA. Humanized Transformers, a lost Allspark, and love in the brewing? *le gasp*. Cheesy, yes. Kinda a good story, also yes. Bee/OP with badassness all around. If you like hot guys, squealing over lovey moments, action, and fighting then you might want to read this. Warning: there is yaoi later in the story. Don't like don't read.
1. Chapter 1

I'd really like it if people would read this AN. I know it can be a pain sometimes, but I gaurentee that if you read this you will understand what's going on a lot faster and save yourself _a lot_ of confusion.

So, I love Transformers. And I recently came across an AU created by sleepyoldvamp on DeviantArt. **All the characters, character designs, and most of the ideas belong to Sleepy.** I just fell in love with this AU and wanted to connect the dots between the pictures Sleepy draws and the little oneshots I find here and there. Just a warning, **I don't have all of the information and details on this AU so I had to improvise and work with what I know.** I do have permission to write and post this from Sleepy. The name of this story is a nod to Sleepy since his gallery folder for this AU is 'Chasing the Flame'. The Preview Image is also a work of Sleepy's. Not mine.

This is a Humanized Transformers Story.

_**AND THERE'S YAOI IN THIS STORY SO IF YOU DON'T LIKE DON'T READ**_

Not my problem if you read it anyway.

Anyway, the Autobots go by normal human names. For now, Bumblebee is the only transformers character in the story. **Bumblebee=Alex**. I'll have a link to Sleepy's pictures of him at the end of the chapter so you can see what he looks like.

Transformers belongs to Hasbro©.

Characters and Designs and Ideas and Preview Image belong to sleepyoldvamp.

**I don't own anything.**

Story Warnings: Swearing, Violence, Blood, Yaoi

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of Drugs, Swearing

Chapter 1

I gave a quiet sigh as I slipped into the tiny, filthy kitchen of my home. There was dirt in every low corner and mold growing in every high corner and even on the ceiling. The sink was cluttered with dishes and the oven covered with crusted and buzzing pans. "Chore after school," I mumbled to myself as I dug through the bread bin, searching for the loaf with the least mold on it. When I located it, I flipped through the slices until I found a clean one, pulled it out, and plopped it in the ancient toaster.

As my breakfast cooked I moved over to my backpack, which was sitting on the table. I loved the thing. I'd had it for three years now and it was still going strong. Sure the straps were held together by duct tape and the zipper to the biggest pouch had to be careful coaxed into moving, but it was still working for me. I dug out my school-given planner and opened it to the page with yesterday's date on it, looking through my neat hand writing and seeing if I missed any homework last night. Behind me, I heard the heavy steps of my druggie mother enter the room followed by the sound of the fridge opening.

"Morning," I greeted softly, not wanting to aggravate any headache she might have.

The sound of a beer can being opened was my reply and then a sloppy sip of the liquid. "I'm out of my meds," the woman rasped. My eyes closed for a moment, shoulders drooping. Shit. Of all the times this had to happen it had to be now when father was on a losing streak. My mother had been diagnosed with lung cancer when I was nine and, because we couldn't afford chemo, she was on pain medication and the kind of meds that kept her from coughing up a lung. They were expensive to purchase and my mother was liberal in their use as well as mixing in her own drugs to ease her pain. And since her unemployment check went to meth that left it to father or me to get her the other meds.

My silence apparently wasn't enough of an answer for her. "You know we wouldn't have to worry about this if you actually got a job," she snapped, voice husky from years of smoking and the cancer.

It was on the tip of my tongue to snap that she or father should get a job, but I bit my cheek as I turned and grabbed my toast from the toaster, stuffing the corner into my mouth. "I can't, mother," I said around my toast, careful not to look at her as I grabbed my jacket and shrugged it on. "I'm 17, remember? I can't legally work until I'm 18." I didn't want to look at her. I didn't want to see how far she'd deteriorated over the years. My mental picture was a lot less painful to see.

The woman snorted and I felt a hand hit my shoulder. "Like that's ever stopped anyone. Stop making excuses and go get a goddamn job, you bum."

Ignoring the hit, I zipped up my backpack and threw it over my shoulders. "I'll look for places to work after school," I offered quietly before sighing when that only earned me another smack and a push.

"You and your fancy education. You're only wasting your time on books and teachers. Not to mention you're wasting _my_ money, Alex. I don't know why you keep insisting on going back there."

"I need my diploma to go to college," I pointed out resolutely, squaring my shoulders for the reaction. No matter what she said, I was going to college. I was getting out of here.

My mother fairly hissed as she followed me out of the kitchen, smacking and pushing me the entire way with her feeble strength. "Do you have any idea how much money college costs? I bet you don't, you stupid little shit. I bet you don't care. Do you know what your father goes through to get the money he does to put food on the table?" He gambles and drinks and somehow always manages to avoid getting into trouble. Honestly, he was my inspiration to get out of this town. There was no way in hell I was going to chance ending up like him; unsure of the number of days passing by and instead living by the next beer to fit into my hand or the next card game to ultimately lose money in. No. I was better than that. I just needed another year and a half and I could get out of here. Just a year and a half.

I took a deep calming breath before taking a bite of my toast and opening the door. "I have to go to school, mother. I'll be home late."

"You better bring back some money, you bastard!" she screeched, practically shoving me down the stairs that led to the front door of our shack of a home. "We don't have to feed you and clothe you, ungrateful piece of crap!"

I waved a lazy hand as I quickly walked down the street, head down to avoid anyone's gaze, dodging around piles of trash and giving groups of people a wide berth without being obvious. The street was fairly empty due to the early morning, but there were those unstable in the head enough to force them out of their homes and ready to be triggered by anything. It wasn't pleasant to be that trigger despite the fact that I had years of martial arts training under my belt. A fight just wasn't the right way to start the day.

When I finished my toast, I brushed the crumbs from the front of my black jacket that was open to reveal the faded yellow shirt with white graphic designs. I frowned when I saw some dark stain on my black jeans, but, since a simple brush didn't make it disappear, I resigned myself to living with it until I could wash my clothes again. It was always a thorn in my side whenever my clothes were stained or rumpled. Just because I lived in the worst part of town didn't mean I had to look like it.

On that thought, I stopped in front of a shop with a glass window and squinted in it, fussing with my short blond hair. It was a length that I found easy to care for and I found it okay that it decided to stick straight up for the most part. Just above my forehead were two locks of black hair. Despite all the guesses and teasing they were, in fact, natural. Much to my displeasure. It just struck me as ridiculous. What genes did I have that gave me such weird hair? For a moment, I met my own tired blue gaze, debating if I should take out the piercing in my left eyebrow or the two hoops that pierced my left ear, before shaking my head and continuing my mile-and-a-half walk to school.

I got there about ten minutes before the bell would ring and immediately made my way to my small locker, crouching down to reach it and grab the books I needed. My hand was reaching to close the door when a hand grabbed my hip and another smacked my butt. "Looking good there, Alex," a male voice teased.

My locker slammed shut and I stood, smacking away the unwanted hand while shouldering my bag. "Careful, Jess," I warned in a low voice. "You keep that up and I'm really going to think you're gay."

The dirty blond teenager with an out-of-place tan pouted at me. "Aw. You're grumpy. Rough morning?" I rolled my eyes before turning to the other two. "Hey, Mike. Hey, Cal." Mike was a tall and burly senior who had red shaggy hair that he didn't bother to take care of. His nose was crooked in two places, showing his history of fights. At his side, Cal was almost tiny, dressed in all black with pasty, white skin and drooping, black, greasy hair and acne dotting his cheeks and jaw. The three were an odd group, especially with me added in, but they've been by my side since freshmen year, three years ago, and I wasn't about to question them.

Cal hummed a reply and Mike gave a feral smile. "You look like you went to Samantha's party last night," he commented in a deep grating voice.

I huffed and gave him a droll look. "You know I didn't." I got a smack on the back of my head for my attitude.

"Shape up. You're supposed to be cheery." I only sighed and stiffened only a little when Jess wrapped an arm around my shoulders as we walked to class.

"Oh, you should've been there, Alex," he exclaimed excitedly. "There was so much beer going around and even some liquor."

"Don't forget the dope," Cal put in from the other side of Mike.

Jess whistled appreciatively. "Oh, I don't think I can. My head is still buzzing from all of it. It was the good stuff, Alex. It would've been a good sample to start you on."

I grimaced and tightened my grip on my backpack strap. "Ugh. No, thank you. I'll keep my sanity thank you very much."

The dirty blond pouted again and dropped some more of his weight on my shoulders, dragging his feet as we approached our classroom. "You've gotten lighten up, Alex. You'll never get girls with that stick up your ass. Hello, ladies," Jess drawled his greeting to a couple of girls—sluts—walking past, leering at them, and only got sniffs in reply, which caused him to snort and mutter about girls playing hard to get.

Mike rumbled a laugh. "The ladies were good too," he said, bringing the topic back to the party. "There was quite a bit of action going on last night."

Cal perked up and turned to look up at his taller friend as they weaved through the desks to the back row. "You got some action, didn't you?" he asked, a smile growing on his face.

Mike nodded as he fell into his seat, a smug smirk on his face. "Felicity Howells."

Jess gasped and practically threw himself across my desk to get closer to the bigger teen. "No way. Howells?" A smirk landed on his face. "Did she _howl_?"

"With the puns already?" I groaned, flicking his ear and making him yelp and go back to his seat. Even Cal was giving Jess an unhappy gaze, but Mike just grinned.

"Oh, yes. She did."

I tuned out the conversation as the other two wheedled Mike for details. The mental picture of Mike and Felicity together was unattractive to me. Hell, the thought of any man and woman together in bed was quick to kill any attraction in me. If I was honest, hearing my friends go on and on about how good or lacking a girl was in bed made me sick. Not only because of the disrespect and derogatory terms but because the thought of two men together was so much more nice to think about. And I would die before that truth left me and reached living ears. The fact that I was gay was going with me to the grave.

"Hey, Alex." I jolted out of my thoughts, which were taking a pleasant turn, to see Jess poking me with a teasing smile. "Imagining Felicity howling?" he asked in what I assumed was his attempt at a seductive whisper.

"Grow up," I commanded with a forced playful smile, pushing the teen away from me.

"We were talking about our next place to _visit_," Cal informed me as Jess got up and crouched between Mike's and I's desks so that we didn't have to talk so loudly.

My playful smile died and was replaced with a frown. 'Visiting': code word for robbing. When I'd first become a freshmen, I'd been struggling to keep as much monetary pressure off my parents. I'd met the three guys then and they'd invited me to 'visit' with them. It hadn't sat well with me at first, but the money I was able to take home with me and give to my mother, seeing her face light up, was worth it. So I'd kept 'visiting' with the boys and bringing home a somewhat steady and meager income. But somewhere in the middle of my sophomore year my house had been robbed, taking anything worth of value from the place that was supposed to be safe. I was given a taste of what I was doing to all those people I'd robbed, and it was a bitter taste. After that, I'd come up with excuses and reasons to avoid 'visiting' with my friends and I'd been lucky enough to avoid them over the summer, but now that junior year had started up again my friends wanted to go again.

"I don't know, guys," I murmured, glancing around at the other students taking their seats and at the clock. We only had a few more minutes. "I don't think I want to 'visit'."

"Oh, come on, Alex," Jess whined, shifting his hands to my desk and giving me puppy dogs eyes. "You haven't visited with us in forever! What happened to the good old days?"

Cal leaned over Mike's desk so he could speak quietly. "And we've already scoped out the place so you don't have to do it. It'll be an easy in and out. The Firebird Autoshop has basic security and the three workers always leave by ten. Piece of cake."

I was already shaking my head, reaching up to fuss with the piercings in my ear as I always did when I got stressed. "I don't think so. I'm fine right now. I don't need to visit."

"Bull," Mike said lowly, giving me a long and unhappy look when he saw I wouldn't be easily convinced. "We know you, Alex. You're the one who needs this money the most. Let us help you."

"And aren't we amigos?" Jess demanded. "We take care of each other. Even if you didn't need help you would help us, wouldn't you?"

"Of course!" I hissed before looking down at my desk. "But it's not right. I can't live my entire life 'visiting'. I need to stop before I become too dependent. The longer I keep 'visiting' the more prone I'm going to be to do it later in life. It's a psychological proven fact. It's like an addiction or habit. I've got to stop now so it doesn't get worse."

"But you're so good at it, Alex," Jess murmured, and I recognized the compliment as a means to make me relax and cave easier into his wishes. But I was smarter than all of them combined and recognized this tactic. "It's like your calling. You can pick a lock in less than a minute and get through practically any security system. Why stop at something you're good at?"

"Because it's bad for me and just wrong," I snapped quietly, glaring down at my friend.

Mike shifted in his seat, flexing his arms obviously. "Don't tell me you're a goodie-two-shoes now," he rumbled, a dark glint in his eyes.

I stiffened and held back the urge to either spit curses or punch him. "I'm taking care of myself," I hissed.

"You're being selfish," Cal retorted.

Mike nodded and glared back at me. "You haven't gone with us in over a year. It's about time you started carrying your own weight."

"My own wei—"

"We'll be on the corner of 1st and Redmond. Be there by ten."

I was this close to snapping at him that he had no right to order me around when the teacher came in and called for order. It was hard forcing my temper down, but I breathed it away using a trick I'd learned in martial arts. I took a deep breath, held it, and then slowly blew it, emptying out the reservoir of anger. It took a few repeats before my head was totally clear, but by the time I'd emptied myself and pulled the appropriate binder out of my backpack the teacher was done with roll call and class had started. It was difficult, ignoring the looks thrown my way from my friends and the bad feelings I was getting from them, but I managed it and went through the rest of my classes without further incident. After nearly a year of avoiding my friends but still keeping them as friends, I'd perfected the art of nonchalantly brushing off grabs for my attention.

My entire focus was on my classes and lessons. Yeah, I was bored out of my mind most of the time since I'd already read ahead in the textbooks, but sometimes the teachers gave little tokens of information I wouldn't have found anyway. Ever since I became aware of scholarships open to sophomores I'd been redoubling my efforts in school, fighting for each A that I got so I was that much more attractive to scholarships. It was obvious that I couldn't even pay my way through the local community college let alone the famous university right here in my city, so my only chance were scholarships and student loans to get into college. And everything I read on getting ready for college said I needed to start preparing as soon as possible. Every dollar and grade counted.

I wasted about seven hours after school, walking around the city and dropping by places to see if they would hire me. It was always the same answer every time. No. No. No. No. No. Jeez, a guy could only get rejected so many times. Sometimes I stumbled upon a small ma-and-pa place and they would let me do a small job for a quick buck; like take out the trash or wash the windows. That never yielded much money, but every dollar counted. Huh. I wonder if I should make that my motto.

So it was around 9:30 at night that I walked back through my front door. My ears immediately detected the loud snores of my fat, alcoholic father passed out on the couch with a blanket of beer cans and bottles covering him. My lip curled at the stench and disgusting sight before my stomach rumbled audibly. Maybe my father brought home some takeout. He was always fond of fast food and burgers that only cost a dollar. I preferred Chinese takeout and the good authentic spices, but that was expensive and, therefore, out of my reach

I made my way over to the fridge and opened the door, leaning down to peer in. Nothing but empty beer cases, moldy cheese, and a glob of something brown and green. Shaking my head, I closed the fridge and moved over to the sink, rolling up my jacket sleeves and turning on the water. At least I could keep myself busy with chores until I felt ready to go to bed. Besides, the water felt good and soothing against my hands and the mechanical motion of scrubbing dishes and reaching for the next one just numbed my mind.

Until chest rattling coughs interrupted my trance. I turned off the water and listened to my mother, fighting for breath down the hall in her room. A heavy weight sank into my stomach as I closed my eyes and rubbed my face with wet hands, black bangs drooping visibly to tickle my eyes. The coughing seemed to go on forever and when it stopped it was replaced by pained moans. It was in moments like these that I couldn't forget that my mother was dying. It was a miracle that she even lived this long, but she didn't have much longer. And the fact that I couldn't make her death easy or even stop it killed me. If I could just get the money she would be happier.

Money…I looked up at the old clock that hung from only one nail, tilting the whole thing. 9:46. My stomach rumbled and another round of coughing started up. I stood there for a long moment, staring at my clenched fists. Yes, it was the easiest and quickest way to get money, but that didn't make it right! But is listening to your mother suffering and neglecting yourself right? I can make do; I just need a few more months and I'll be 18 and working! Your mother could die in those few months. Do you really want her to die starving and in agony?

A pained sound escaped my throat as I lifted my hands and tugged at my short hair before I turned, pulled down my sleeves, and left the house.

I could make it to 1st and Redmond in time if I run.

WARNING: SOME PICTURES OF SLEEPY'S ARE NOT APPROPRIATE FOR YOUNG EYES. INCLUDES BUTTS, BARE CHESTS, AND YAOI.

But this pic is clean. Alex: ( sleepy old vamp . deviant art art / Bumble bee - Spex - 609 969 99)

sleepyoldvamp's Chasing the Flame Gallery: ( sleepy old vamp . deviant art gallery / 236 762 78 / Chasing - The - Flame)

sleepyoldvamp's DA account: ( sleepy old vamp . deviant art )

*hint: remove the spaces and parentheses*

*second hint: put a "dot" (c) (o) (m) and a forward slash after deviantart


	2. Chapter 2

So here's the second chapter. I'll admit, when I first wrote this I intended this to be two separate chapters, but I'm impatient to get the rest of the other characters and the actual story. So you guys get a long chapter! Woo for you!

On another note, I plan on updating every week on Friday unless I get impatient and update randomly, but you can always depend on a chapter every Friday. And just so those of you who doubt I will finish this story…I've already finished it. I'm just going through editing and revising it before posting, so you can be committed to this story and not be disappointed when I stop.

And on a last note, I'm not sure I'll put another link in just yet because I'm not really interacting with this new character. Take your guess as to who it is.

I don't own anything except the plot and OCs.

Chapter Warnings: B&E, swearing, mild violence.

Chapter 2

"What time is it?"

"10:43."

"Why are we still standing here?"

"We have to make sure they're gone," I answered quietly, tugging on my hood to make sure it was still in place before zipping my jacket up all the way to hide my eye-catching yellow shirt. "We don't want to chance getting caught."

Jess shifted impatiently. "They're always gone by ten o'clock. I know this. I've watched them for two weeks! You don't think that's enough preparing and being safe?" His brown eyes cut through the darkness, glowing with indignation and impatience.

"It's not that and you know it," I whispered, eyeing the building across the street. "No matter how we prepare we need to make sure that the coast is clear by waiting an hour."

The building was in good shape, a good twenty minute walk from my house. It was two stories even if it looked like three. The bottom floor was about twenty feet tall with three garage doors locked tight to the left side of the building and a small door and bank of windows showed where the reception area was for the business. A line of windows above the garages told of a second story where the owner probably did paperwork and counted the money. It was made up of brick, showing its age with its architecture, but looked like it was cleaned and trimming was painted periodically. A sign that read 'FIREBIRD AUTOSHOP' sat about the reception door, done in flaming paint and graphics. It was pretty cool looking actually. All and all it looked like a healthy business that no doubt had a bunch of money behind its locks and security.

"Oh, please," Jess snipped, crossing his arms. "We haven't played by your 'safety' rules ever since you left and we haven't gotten caught once. You're just being paranoid."

"Look, I'm just looking out for all of us. Do you really want to end up in juvvie?"

"And you've shown us that so well," Mike drawled sarcastically from where he was leaning against a doorway, messing with his phone. "What with bailing on us for over a year and then coming crawling back. Yup. The picture of a good friend." I sighed and rubbed my forehead, unsure how to respond since it was the truth and any reply that immediately popped to mind sounded weak.

"Where's Jess?" Cal suddenly asked, speaking up for the first time since I showed up.

My head jerked up and my eyes flew to the spot where Jess had been a moment ago. My heart started racing when I realized that he was gone and I got up from my place on a bench, looking around quickly. It took less than a moment to spot my idiot friend, approaching the door to the Firebird Autoshop. "You idiot!" I hissed before pushing myself to go after him. He was going to get us all caught if he kept this up.

I made sure to stick to the unlit portion of the small parking lot to avoid being seen by any possible cameras or onlookers. Jess was waiting by the door with a shit-eating grin when I finally stormed up to him. "Are you insane?" I whisper-shouted.

His smile only grew as he stepped back, giving me access to the door as I heard Cal and Mike come up behind me. "After you, my saboteur," he drawled in a horrible French accent.

My disgusted look caused his smile to drop a bit, but I moved towards the door anyway, dropping to a knee and pulling out my lock picks. "Do you even know what that means?" I asked, glaring at him angrily as I jimmied the pieces of metal into the small lock. My kit was all homemade, picked up from the nearby junkyard, but it was like my backpack, still serving me well. It didn't escape my notice that Jess wasn't chastised at all for his reckless actions. If anything, I might have heard someone patting him on the back.

I was a bit rusty, being out of practice for so long, but I had the door unlocked in a minute. A faint beeping sound reached my ears the second the door open and I was rushing inside on silent feet as quickly as I could, scrambling to locate the security panel. The mental clock was ticking in my head as I snapped open the device attached to the wall, pulling out a tiny screwdriver and frantically taking away the button cover. Underneath, a plethora of wires revealed itself to me and I squinted at it, tracing the functions of each wire before snapping my hand up and detaching a lone black wire. My shoulders sagged in relief as the device gave a happy chirping sound and the screen read DISARMED.

Someone slapped my shoulder and I nearly face-planted into the wall. "I knew you had it in you," Mike murmured before leaving me to fix my handy work.

I had just finished screwing the plastic cover in place when I heard Cal swear, "Are you fucking kidding me?" My head turned to see the small Goth teen glaring death down at an empty cash register. "It's empty!" He slammed the drawer shut and I flinched at the loud sound.

Jess hurried over. "Is there a safe or something under the counter?"

"No."

The dirty blond teen audibly ground his teeth. "God-fucking-damn it. Where else would they keep the money? Stupid fuckers!" He turned and kicked the barstool behind the counter, sending it crashing down in a cacophony of noise. I was about to snap at him to be quiet when Mike spoke first.

"We don't need the money," Mike suddenly cut in and we turned to see him standing by an open door that led into darkness. "There is probably thousands of dollars' worth of tools in here. More than any money we'll find laying around."

Cal's and Jess' attitude did a 180 as the hustled over to the door, pausing only for a moment to allow their eyes to adjust before continuing on. I reluctantly moved over to the door, burying my hands in my pockets and heaving a sigh as my conscience screamed at me that this was wrong. I was aware, but what else could I do?

I watched the three shadows that were my friends move around the large garage as I slowly entered it, standing by one of the two cars parked in the space. From experience, I knew we would be out of here in no time as soon as they grabbed an armful of tools we could pawn off. So I was a bit surprised when Mike cursed this time. "Where are the tools?" he demanded.

The rattling sound of metal made me flinch again as I moved over to where Jess was fighting to pull a drawer to a tool box open. "The boxes are locked," he growled.

Another rattling over where I knew Cal was told me he tried as well. "All of them are," he corrected, sounding very unhappy.

"Alex," Mike called, but I was already kneeling by Jess' box, fingers and eyes straining for any key hole. A frown tugged my lips when I only felt smooth surfaces. "Well?" the biggest of us prompted as he came up behind me.

The answer suddenly dawned on me and my fingers traced over two small bumps on a raised flat surface. They were lights. "It's electronic," I stated, running my fingers over the raised flat surface. "Probably a keycard scanner. There's no way I'm getting this open."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"Great. Just great."

"Shit mother fuckers!"

"Be quiet," I hissed, standing up again. "You'll get us all caught."

"I don't care!" Jess snapped, storming over and picking something up. "These bastards think they're so awesome keeping us out," he snarled as he moved to one of the cars and I was running over to him in the same instant. "I'll show them!"

I caught his arms just as he was about to throw whatever object he had, holding him back. "Don't you dare!" I growled. "It's bad enough that we're here to rob the place, don't damage it!"

"Since when do you care? Huh? Once you were always the one finding us new places and the first one in. What the hell happened to you?"

"I grew up! I refuse to steal for the res to of my life. I'm better than that."

Jess snorted. "Oh, excuse me, Mr. High and Mighty."

"Jess, Cal," Mike called lowly, walking over to Jess and I. "Find the door that goes upstairs." Even in the pitch black I could recognize the dangerous look on his face. It was a look that you ran from and one that even scared me despite my confidence in my fighting abilities. Mike had a good fifty pounds on me and most of that was muscle. Even if I did fight him I would be hard pressed to keep from getting hurt. Jess immediately scurried away while I stood my ground, glaring up at the larger teen. It was by pure will and stubbornness that I didn't flinch when a large hand landed roughly on my shoulder as the teen loomed over me in a show of intimidation. "I don't know what the fuck your problem is," Mike snarled, shoving me back with tremendous force. "But you better get your head out of your ass. You're here and you're helping us or so help me I will kill you."

My lip curled at the threat. "Oh, yeah, right," I snapped back, anger clouding my mind. "You're too stupid to even throw a punch the right way even if you were given a map and a compass." I realized my mistake an instant too late.

Colossal hands slammed around my upper arms like steel bands and I had to consciously keep myself from lashing out in self-defense as I was lifted off the ground by the bruising grip. "What. Did. You. Say?" the teen spat, spraying his spit all over my face and I spared a quick prayer to whatever god was listening that Mike didn't just pass on any disease or STDs with that spit. I wasn't going to pray for my life seeing how I could already protect it.

And if I had already pissed him off, why not make it worse? "Dude," I drawled nonchalantly. "Say it, don't spray it." The grip tightened on my arms painfully enough to force a hiss of pain out of me, but before Mike could do anything we were blinded.

The lights had just turned on. And an angry cold voice echoed over the room. "What are you doing in my shop?"

Four sets of eyes turned and locked on to the figure, standing in the doorway that most likely led upstairs. He was hold an aluminum baseball bat, but that wasn't the only thing intimidating about him. The man with a dark tan was about as tall as Mike, wearing worn blue jeans and a grease-splatter, tight, white shirt that clung to every single muscle in his chest and showed off his biceps. He had black hair, short except for the two locks of hair that framed his eyes with a red streak in each. The man had a strong jaw that was currently flexed in anger and dark blue eyes that were practically glowing in fury. One part of me was frozen in fear. The other part was frozen in awe, staring at this fine man.

The frozen tension in the air was broken by Jess swearing and making a dash for the door with Cal right on his heels. Mike's grip on my arms disappeared suddenly and I found myself experiencing the sick sensation of flying backwards before my side slammed into a car. The car alarm blared to life, wailing its distress as I collapsed to the floor, gasping as my wrist flared in pain when I tried to catch myself.

Despite the pain in my elbow and wrist, I scrambled to my feet and ran for the door as well, casting a glance over my shoulder to see if I was being pursued. My heart almost stopped when I saw the man was just standing there, watching me with a curious look on his face. Our eyes met and held and I knew he'd seen me and knew my face. My chest flared in suddenly heat, causing me to stumble a step before panic and fear forced me out the door and onto the street. The heat in my chest didn't fade until I snuck back through my bedroom window and lay in my bed, panting from my run and shock.

Oh, shit. I was in deep trouble.

The only reason I went to school the next day was for two reasons. One, I knew it would be suspicious if I stayed home after an attempted robbery. If the police were looking through the school for a teenaged blond student and saw that he was obviously trying to stay out of sight by staying out of school then I would be the first suspect. Two, I didn't want to stay home with my mother and hear her coughing and moans of pain. I'd stooped low last night to try and help her and I'd failed miserably. Not only did I not come back with even a penny, but someone saw me and could report me to the police. And on top of that I got hurt. My entire left arm was bruised as all hell. My wrist was swollen and I begged any god that was listening that it wasn't broken and my elbow hurt a bit whenever I moved it. I couldn't exactly do anything about it, so I just stuck my left hand in my pocket and resolved to keep it there all day.

I was constantly looking over my shoulder on my way to school, but no one was following me and no cops appeared from thin air.

Due to my paranoia, I arrived at school earlier than usual, so I was sitting in my 1st hour classroom for quite some time, working on an extra credit assignment, when my friends walked in. I didn't look up and acknowledge them, hoping they would get the hint. They didn't. Jess slammed his backpack down on his desk before leaning down and hissing in my ear, "What the hell?"

Before I could reply to him, Mike's heavy hand fell on my shoulder, keeping me from moving too much as he leaned down and got in my face. "Are you so fucking pissed at us over something that you purposely tried to get us caught last night?"

I spluttered and tried to shrug off the hand. It stayed there. "Of course not! If you got caught then so would I and I don't want that."

Cal crossed his arms and stood in front of me, all three of them boxing me in and making me feel cornered. "Then why were you constantly distracting us last night? If you had just shut your mouth we would've noticed the guy," he said coolly.

My ears must be lying to me. They did not just blame all of last night on me. I gaped up at them and their judgmental expressions. "Are you kidding me?" I demanded, keeping my voice down low enough to not draw too much attention but to still convey my shock and disbelief. "You're blaming all of that on me? When Jess went in before we were sure the place was empty and started trying to break everything under the sun? Or when Cal started cursing up a storm? Or when Mike decided that beating me up was more important than what we were supposed to be doing? Are you seriously blaming all of that on me?" An unfamiliar heat grew in my chest, just under my sternum and I associated it with my growing anger.

"Yo!" Jess snapped, anger flashing in his usually cheerful brown eyes. "I thought we were tight, Alex. Where do you get off trying to blame me?"

"And after everything I've done where do you get off trying to blame all of last night on me?" I retorted.

Mike growled and Cal was scowling darkly. "You haven't done jack shit," Mike snarled and I knew a few classmates were beginning to look our way. I stiffened when Mike grabbed the collar of my shirt and yanked me up and out of my seat, leaving me scrabbling at the ground with my toes. "And don't think I've forgotten what you said last night. You aren't getting away with mocking me."

My anger grew and so did the heat in my chest. I glared up at the taller boy. "I _dare _you," I said, clearly enunciating each word.

Those dull green eyes flared in hatred as he pulled back a meaty fist. "Why, you—!" Even as that fist began moving towards me I was bringing up a knee to hit the teen's nuts and an army to smash the wrist to get him to drop me. I wasn't going down without drawing blood first.

"_What_ is going on here?" a shrill voice called hotly and Mike and I froze before turning to see a teacher from across the hall standing in the doorway with hands propped on her hips. "Do I need to get the principal?" she demanded, threatening us with a knowing gleam in her eyes.

I gritted my teeth and blew out a quick breath, dropping my knee down. "No, ma'am," I answered calmly. I did _not_ need a black mark on my transcript.

"No," Mike growled, dropping me suddenly even though my balance allowed me to avoid stumbling.

"Good," the teacher huffed. She then pointed a long painted fingernail at me. "Mr. Steek. Please move to the front of the class. We don't want to have further trouble, now do we?" My shoulders almost sagged in relief and the lady teacher must've seen the gratitude in my eyes because she smiled at me. I was so bringing her a gift for teacher appreciation week. "Don't let me hear of anymore trouble, okay, boys?"

"Yes, ma'am," I replied instantly, grabbing my backpack and papers and moving to the empty desk nearest to the door. It put me the farthest from my former friends and closest to my escape route. Always be prepared. Mike and the other two grumbled and shuffled in reply, slowly taking their seats, but I could feel the glares boring into the back of my head. I ignored them with ease as the teacher gave one last warning look before leaving the room just as our teacher came in. The day had begun and I rubbed my chest, easing the slight heat in it.

The next three days that make up the rest of the school week I'm on high alert. My former friends are not lacking in the dirty looks and angry glares department, but I resolutely ignored them, careful to not even look at them lest they take that as an invitation to approach me. After school, I wandered around the city, still asking for jobs with a pitifully tiny resume in hand. In between searching for jobs, I went behind restaurants, looking in the dumpsters for any leftover food. Yeah, it was disgusting, but food hadn't been put in the fridge at home in over a week and the good bread I ate for breakfast was gone. I'd seen the takeout containers that were taking up space in the garbage can, so I knew at least my mother and father were eating.

The odd jobs I was taking on had gotten me about 40 bucks, but that was nowhere near enough to get my mother her meds. I heaved a sigh as I wiped my filthy hands on the inside of my jacket where no one would see before looking up at the sky. It was about seven o'clock and I wanted to stop in at this out-of-the-way diner and see if they would possibly take me on. I took a quick minute to take off my jacket and carry it on my arm so the resume I was carrying wasn't so obvious and so I didn't look too much like a punk; my piercings and black bangs were already bad enough, but there wasn't much I could do to change that.

A quaint sign reading '_Dan's Diner_' buzzed and flickered cheerfully as I walked through the swinging door, ringing the bells hung on the door handle. An old man looked up from where he was drying a glass by the cash register. It was late enough in the night where there were only one or two customers occupying the place. The old man smiled at me. "Hey, kid. What can I do for you?"

I forced a smile back, pushing back my stress and negative emotions of the past few days—weeks—and called up my cheerful attitude. "I was actually wondering if you happened to have any job openings here," I replied easily, walking up to the counter and resting my elbows on it, careful to not get close enough to the other man that he didn't think I was crowding him.

"Jobs?" he repeated, smile dropping a bit before he frowned and looked me over closely. "How old are you, kid? 15? 16?"

My forced laughter actually sounded natural from tons of practice over the years. "Close. 17."

The old man nodded and I waited for the words to come from his mouth. 'Sorry, but you know the laws'. 'You're just not old enough'. But instead he hummed thoughtfully. "How badly do you want a job?" he asked instead.

My smile thinned a bit as I snapped my eyes to his, evaluating the emotions and thoughts passing behind those grey eyes. There was actually a bright shine of kind interest instead of the calculation or elation at possibly having a kid willing to do anything for cash. Anything that can be done from the privacy of a back room. I'd had offers like that and I hadn't even deigned them with a reply before leaving the place. This old man just seemed concerned and willing to help. My smile dropped entirely. "Badly," I answered simply, letting the man see past my cheerful and sociable façade.

The old man nodded. "I need cheap help badly," he replied before holding up a hand to stall my protests. "Not too cheap, I swear. But we're just a small business that's run by me and my wife. We can't pay those minimum wages."

I relaxed a bit and looked over the old man again. He was in his late 60s, I would presume. His grey hair was thinning and the tanned wrinkles on his face only added to his aged appearance. He didn't have a large gut like I'd typically seen on old men, but he was wiry and corded with muscles. Those weathered hands, holding the cup and towel, actually interested me. I could see callouses thick all over his hands, speaking of a hard worker throughout all of his years. And I could also see the stressed lines and misaligned finger joints that told me that the old man suffered from arthritis. "What kind of pay are you talking about?" I asked after a long moment in which the old man let me eyeball him.

"Seven-fifty. I'll let you work as many hours as you can as long as your grades don't suffer. A kid like you should be focused on school and going to college."

I thought over the offer critically before nodding. "Alright. I'll bring you weekly reports on my grades so you can see for yourself and I get to quit whenever I want should this turn out shadier than it looks right now."

The old man smiled a bit, mischief and amusement shining in his wise eyes. "Not a trusting one, are you?" I just stared at him and his smile grew before he stuck out a wrinkled hand. "You got yourself a deal. And don't worry about having your rabbit hole. I won't be able to actually put you on my tax reports or anything official since you're still a minor. Any pay you get will be cash and under the table."

I grasped his hand and shook it firmly, an honest smile appearing on my face for the first time in a while. "Sounds good to me. I'm Alex Steek, by the way."

The old man looked surprised, the sheepish, and finally amused once more. "Ah. Got caught up in all this deal making I forgot to tell you the most important part. I'm Daniel Velocidad, but you can just call me Dan. Here. Follow me, I'll show you what you're going to be doing and introduce you to my wife. She's the one that makes this business run." I shared a smile with the man as he said the last sentence, obviously joking about his contribution to the work load before following Dan as he got up and moved back into the kitchen. "You'll be doing mainly the dishwashing and busser part of the job. But if it gets real busy you'll be helping either me or Marsha with serving food or making it. Marsha, honey!"

An absolutely tiny old woman looked up from where she was scraping a flat top stove before smiling brightly up at up. She probably only came up to my upper chest and her thin frame didn't help her at all. Hazel eyes twinkled from underneath thick glasses as the woman reached up and adjusted the fishnet holding her short hair back and away from the food before she wiped her hands on her apron. "Dan," she greeted back warmly, but her eyes stayed on me. "Who's this?"

I stepped forward and offered her my hand to shake. "I'm Alex Steek. And I think I've just been hired to be a busboy and dishwasher."

Dan quickly filled her in on the details of our deal and she glared half-heartedly at her husband, smacking him on the arm. "We're cheating the boy out of his first real job, you old coot," she chastised before looking up at me with worried eyes. "Are you sure you want to do this, sweetheart? It's a lot of hard work."

I shrugged and smiled warmly back, feeling my heart and mood lift for the first time in a while at the positive turn of events. "I'm not one to shy from work. I even have a food handler's card. And I do really need this job. And even if I end up not liking this place Dan here has given me an easy way out."

Marsha didn't seem all the way convinced, but accepted it. "Oh, alright. But only if you work no more than 20 hours a week on school weeks and 40 non-school weeks."

I grimaced at the restriction, but I knew from the second that Dan said that he couldn't pay me minimum wage that I couldn't work endless hours and bleed them out. The hours would give me some free time and allow them to still keep some money in the bank. "Fair enough. I promise I'll work hard. You guys won't regret this."

Dan smiled and chuckled, wrapping an arm around his wife in a hug. "I knew from the start I wouldn't regret this. Don't worry, kid. I have a feeling you're going to fit in just fine here." I just looked at him in confusion before he laughed and shook his head. "Don't think too hard on it. Come with me and we'll figure out your shifts for the next week."

I fell asleep with a grin on my face that night, ecstatic that I'd actually gotten a decent job. Finally, a steady and mostly legal way to get money.

Please leave a review and tell me your thoughts or any grammar, spelling, writing problems I have. I would love to hear what you guys have to say!

And check out sleepyoldvamp's AU that inspired me to write this:

art.(c) (o) (m) (forward slash) gallery (forward slash) 236 762 78 (forward slash) Chasing - The - Flame

Hint: Remove the parenthesis and the spaces and plug in the forward slashes when necessary. And it might just be easier to go to my profile and find the link to Sleepy from there. Just be warned that **there are pictures of neeked people and yaoi.**

Leave a review!


	3. Chapter 3

Hey, it's Friday again! New chapter! Yay! Seriously thinking about to updating every three days because I'm getting too excited.

I don't own Transformers and I don't own Chasing the Flame characters or designs. I only own OCs and plot. Don't touch and we'll all be happy.

When you're done reading head to my profile page for another set of links on a character because I bring another Autobot in! WOOO! HOTNESS!

My good mood followed me through to the next morning, Saturday. I had a job, no homework, and no father in the house. So I changed my clothes in my tiny room into a wife-beater, shorts, and my old running shoes before slipping out of the house and jogging to the nearest park. It had been a while since I've gotten out and exercised and I knew I would feel even better after working off some energy.

I looked up as I ran around the concrete path of the park with a small smile on my face. It was such a good day to be outside. The sun was shiny down her spring rays and there was a light chilly breeze to keep everyone from getting too hot. The sky was mostly clear except for some tiny captivating white clouds and the occasional bird. It wasn't going to be a challenge at all to stay out of the house all day and avoid my parents and former friends. I would just exercise for a few hours, laze around in the park to work on my tan for the next few, then go home and clean up before heading to the diner to check in for my first shift.

The thought made the smile on my face grow and I picked up my pace, heart racing with happiness and excitement. Finally, something worked out in my favor and after all those hours of being rejected and turned away I was finally rewarded. I'm so glad I didn't give up.

I watched as families and kids played in the green field of the park, happy to see others happy like me. Then I see something out of the corner of my eye. I turn to look and nearly stumble and fall.

It was him. The man from the Firebird Autoshop. My chest flared brightly in heat and for the first time I recognize it as something uninfluenced by me, but most of my concern and focus was on the tan, black-haired man. He was watching me.

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. Casually, I turn my head and watch the kids playing in the park once more. My feet picked up their pace a little bit as I struggle to keep from outright bolting, but I keep myself calm and collected as I round a curve in the trail that took me behind some trees, breaking the line of sight with the man. I immediately change course and cut across the field, booking it to the city streets and taking the long, long, _long_ way home.

What the hell? Why was he there? Why was he just standing there? Why didn't he call the cops?

At the thought I turned and glanced over my shoulder, never halting my jog, to scan for any boys in blue or black and white cars. Thankfully, there were none.

Did the man even recognize me? Did I even recognize him? Maybe I'd just seen someone who looked like the guy. Yeah, right. Who else looked that hot and had those strange red streaks in his hair? Probably no one. Great. So the guy knew what I looked like and had now found me.

I scowled as I weaved my way around walking civilians, careful not to bump into anyone. My chest heated once more and I frowned, pressing a hand to my sternum and rubbing lightly. Jesus, was this a serious case of heartburn? No, that couldn't be it because I hadn't even eaten today. As I ran the heat slowly began to die and I thought back to the sensation. It didn't exactly hurt per se. It was just…overwhelming. My chest wasn't supposed to heat up like that and I wasn't accustomed to the sensation so it just hit me harder than it should have.

I heaved a sigh before checking behind me once more and slowing to a walk. It was obvious that I wouldn't be going back to the park for quite some time, which meant I would spend the rest of my day until I had to clean up jogging around the city and burning time. Well, at least I would get a tan and a work out at the same time.

I never stopped checking over my shoulder.

My first shift was a bit boring, but I refused to slack off. The dinner rush had been a bit interesting. I had to carry a grey tub on my hip as I went about the small tables and counters, collecting the used dishes as well as collecting the tips and leaving them in the jar by the cash register. Dan had called me once when Marsha had gotten about a dozen orders filled out in five minutes, asking me to help him take the plates out.

It had been nice to interact with strangers, asking them who had the Yorker Burger or the chocolate sundae or if they wanted a refill. Dan had clapped me on the shoulder when everyone was munching away, telling me I did good for my first go before I went back to my work. Even when the dishes were cleaned and dried I pulled out the mop and bucket and went about mopping the ground. If you had time to lean you had time to clean after all.

The late night dinner customers were seated and talking softly when I came out with some salt and pepper refillers, cleaner, and a towel. I was on my third table when I felt that heat in my chest again. I paused only for a moment, evaluating what I was feeling and the sensation in my chest before dismissing it as harmless even as it lingered and stayed just under my sternum. It really didn't hurt anyway.

Then, as I was straightening from scrubbing the table clean I saw a flicker of black and blue out of the corner of my eye. My gaze shifted and I just about dropped everything in my arms. It was him again.

Mother fucker, really? I had a goddamn stalker? I glared at the man, but he just seemed content, sitting in his booth with a chocolate shake in front of him, watching me as he fiddled with what looked like a raw crystal hanging from a leather cord on his neck. Huffing, I turned and went back to work.

I will admit, ignoring Mr. Stalker was ten times harder than ignoring my former friends at school. At least there I knew why they were in my general vicinity and that they didn't really mean me any harm. Well, they didn't up until recently anyway.

"You okay, kid?" Dan asked as I passed him, looking worried and flicking glances Mr. Stalker's way.

I nodded and relaxed a bit under the friendly concern. "Yeah, Dan. No problem. He just reminded of some I knew once."

"If you say so," Dad murmured before patting me on the shoulder. "Go finish up the dishes and then head home. No need to stay up late."

"It's nothing new to me. I am a teenager after all. Staying up later is part of the age."

"Doesn't mean I'm going to encourage it. Get going."

I stuck around longer despite Dan's protests, though they were joking and half-hearted at best as I turned his words against him. I was finishing the dishes; I just needed the customers to finish using them before I could wash them. Mr. Stalker was gone during one of my trips into the kitchen, leaving his milkshake and a generous tip behind and I couldn't help but frown in confusion, becoming conscious of the warmth in my chest once more. But I pushed it aside and went about my job in the most efficient way. Actually, I was doing tiny dance moves to the music Marsha was playing in the back while humming to myself as I moved between my destinations.

"See you guys tomorrow," I called as I exited through the back door. It was probably eleven and Dan was very firm in telling me that this wasn't happening on any day except for Fridays and Saturdays. Marsha backed him up, waving a ladle in my face. I surrendered the fight and agreed, before being shooed out so they could do final clean up.

A smile was on my face as I ran a hand through my hair and shook out my feet. I was tired and my feet ached from all the walking and standing I'd done. But it was a good kind of workout. One that left you pleasantly buzzing from energy spent and energy still left behind. I chuckled in amusement as my thoughts twisted into further confusing circles as I rounded the corner of the building to cross the parking lot of the diner.

My laughter immediately died. There, standing by a car parked by the curb, was Mr. Stalker. He was just standing there, watching me. He didn't make any movement to wave me over or to walk away. He just…stood there. Watching.

Urg. That was getting on my nerves. If the man had a bone to pick with me about the B&E he could at least tell me straight instead of being a creeper and following me around. The sane part of me told me to just walk away and go home, but the raw nerve part of me was done with being startled and on edge about this guy stalking me.

So, I stalked right up to him. "Can I help you?" I demanded, half-polite half-fed up.

The man blinked, not moving from where he was leaning against his car. For the first time I noticed the trim beard the man kept contained to his chin. My train of thought and anger at the man faded for a minute as I took in the chiseled feature of the man that I hadn't been able to see in the blinding lights of the garage or from a distance. He had high cheek bones that accented those blue eyes that were darker than my own. His jaw looked strong and firm and just aching to be touched and…No. Bad, Alex. Keep your hands to yourself…But even his hair was asking to have hands run through it and see if it was as thick and silky as it looked…Oh, for Christ's sake! Get a hold of yourself! This is Mr. Creeper Stalker Dude, remember?...But he's hot… No.

"Maybe," the man replied after a long moment, literally startling me out of my thoughts and a part of me died on the inside at the sound of that voice, deep and purring in a way that made my inner fanboy die in happiness.

"'Maybe'?" I repeated incredulously. "Look, I don't know why you're even following me, but—"

"Would you rather I call the police for breaking into my shop?"

I stuttered to a stop, gaping at the man for a moment as amusement and mirth twinkled in his blue eyes. Oh, so he was happy that he had black mail on me. "Alright, if that's how you want to do this," I started, crossing my arms. "What's it going to take to keep you from the police and off my back?" My stomach curdled in dread and fear that I refused to show. He could ask for anything for however long he wanted and I wouldn't be able to do anything. If I had anything in my criminal background I would instantly be knocked out of several scholarships. Shit. Why had I agreed to go with those three stooges I'd called friends? Oh, right. My mother's meds.

"I don't want anything." I stared at the man as he looked me over closely.

"Nothing," I echoed and got a nod of confirmation. "You want absolutely nothing. Then why the hell are you following me around? Anyone else would exploit this for anything they wanted. Anything." I leaned forward and pressed my hand to the man's chest to show him how I meant. A strong thrill passed up my spine as I felt the muscles underneath the thin cloth. Oh, boy. Sexy hubba hubba. But that thrill was soon over shadowed by the warmth in my chest as it changed. It no longer just sat there under my sternum, but began to pulse like a heartbeat.

I was just pulling my hand back, startled by the change, when the man's hand came up and caught my own, removing it from his person. "I would never ask for such a thing from anyone less than a consenting and accepting lover that didn't feel pressured in anyway," he spoke, voice dark with anger and indignation. The hand that held my own was gentle, but I could feel the devastating strength being held back. Goosebumps traveled up my arm as the heat continued to pulse.

"Then you're probably the only one," I murmured in response and the man released my hand.

"Your name," the man suddenly said and I cast him a confused look. "Your name. I want that in exchange for staying quiet," he elaborated.

I blinked and debated briefly lying to him so that he couldn't track me anymore than he already had, but something in me just couldn't find the man threatening at all despite the strength and threat he held over me. If anything, I felt a bit relaxed in the heat he was exuding off his body like a space heater. "I'm Alex," I admitted after a moment. "Alex Steek."

"Eric Phoenix," the man replied, holding out his hand to shake. "I'm the owner of Firebird Autoshop."

"I can't imagine where you got the business name," I joked and would've panicked if he hadn't laughed at it. Oh, good, he didn't take offense. Time to hightail it out of here before I mess up the peace between us. "Look, I'm sorry I broke into your shop and I swear I'll never go near it again. It was wrong and I knew that from that start and I can't ever apologize enough. And I still don't know what your beef is, following me, but I get—" I twitched when the oddest sound reached my ears. It was this clicking, rattling sound of something solid and heavy clicking off itself.

My head swung around and I squinted in the direction of the alley that the sound originated from. "What was that?" I asked, heat growing in my chest for some reason until it was nearly overwhelming again. "Hey, you heard that, right?" I turned, expecting to see Eric next to me, but he was gone. I spun around, trying to locate the man before slumping my shoulders and rubbing my face. "Alright. Whatever, Mr. Rude. I need sleep."

Monday rolled around and I was actually a bit surprised when Mike and the others didn't show up. As class continued I kept looking to the door, expecting them to stumble in still half asleep from whatever party they'd found over the weekend. But they never did.

I pushed it out of my mind as best as I could so I could focus, though whenever I did that my thoughts were occupied with a certain Eric Phoenix. What was the man's problem? First he stalks me and then disappears without a sound? Talk about mixed messages. So the entire day my thoughts were fighting to focus on my lessons while trying to puzzle out the mysterious disappearances of the three musketeers and a certain very sexy man.

So, when I was leaving school late, I needed the library computer to do research for a paper, I didn't expect to be pulled aside and slammed again a wall. The sight of Mike, Jess, and Cal kept me from lashing out and cursing, but it didn't stop my scowl. "What the hell?" I asked, gripping Mike's hands where they grabbed the front of my shirt. Then a highly offensive and earthy smell reaches my nose and I sneeze, trying to clear the air. "Are you all high?" I wheezed.

Jess's grin was off the scale for loopy. "Why you ask? Want some?" I glare at him and he wilts. "Aw. You don't need to gimme the bad looks."

I snort, gripping Mike's hands to try and find the nerve to get him to drop me. "You guys are disgusting. What do you want?"

"Cash," Mike grants, eyes glazed over and more dull than usual with the effects of the drugs in his body.

Cal nods and sways, struggling to keep his feet under him. "Yeah. We can't get in anywhere and visit without you. An' since you're obvisly not gonna hlp us then ya need ta pay us."

I frowned at him, trying to make sense of the quiet one's slurred words. Mike readjusts his grip on my shirt. "Taxes," he suddenly says. "You pay and we don' beat the ever livin shit outa ya."

I couldn't help the disbelieving snort that escapes me. "You couldn't hit the side of a barn with a tank right now," I mocked, watching as Cal had to stumble a step back and Jess moved to stabilize him. "Tell you what. You put me down and we just move on peacefully and we'll never bring this up again."

Mike shook his head lethargically. "Wrong 'nswer," he mumbled before throwing a sloppy punch.

It was so embarrassingly easy to avoid it and trip him up. When Cal came flying at me for 'hurting Mike', I simply tripped him and let him tumble on top of his struggling larger friend. I looked up at Jess expectantly, but he was already backing away, hands raised in surrender. "I know better," he said.

I shook my head as I leaned down and picked up my backpack. "I really wish you did," I whispered as I left the school ground, leaving my former friends cursing and swearing up a storm. I had a shift to get to.

It was around 10:00 when I was almost home, ready to go to bed and get plenty of sleep for tomorrow. It was a nice uneventful shift, half of which I told Dan not to count as my hours so I could just help the aging couple. They really were amazing people, letting me work for them and keeping up their end of the deal of unchanging wages and a nice environment to work in. I think I'll keep that job until I graduate and probably longer if I get accepted into the university in the city. That would be amazing. Working through college and on a scholarship. That would be the best case scenario.

"Hey, Alex."

I stopped my walk and saw a familiar face approaching me. "Richie," I greeted back, recognizing the high school drug dealer I knew the three musketeers hung around with sometimes. "How's it going?"

"Going good. But I was wondering, why aren't you helping the boys with that big B&E at that car shop place?"

"Car shop?" I repeated my heart picking up its pace as I turned to face the teenager fully. "What do you mean car shop? What was the name?"

I didn't know I was getting angrier or more intimidating until the boy backed up a few steps and held up his hands. "Chill, man. I don't know the name. They were whispering to themselves. Something about cars and fire."

"Firebird Autoshop?" I asked, dread growing in my stomach. Please say no. Please say no. _Please say n—_

"Yeah!" Richie clapped his hands and pointed a finger at me like I was a game show contestant and I'd just won a prize. "That's the place. They were saying that they were going there tonight. You mean they didn't let you in? Man, that's cruel. Lot's a money in that biz, but I guess you know that. Anyway, I was just…Hey! Where you going, Alex?!"

My feet pounded against the ground and I ran as fast as I could in the direction of the Firebird Autoshop. They couldn't honestly be thinking about going back, could they? Well, I might be overreacting, going off the word of a teenager who was mostly off in Happy Drug Land, but I had to make sure. Not for the stupid idiots' sakes, but because I knew they wouldn't be going back to rob the place, but to trash it. Goddamn it. Mr. Rude Stalker aside, he didn't deserve his shop being raided because a couple of jerks were pissed at me. I just needed to get there and make sure everything was okay. And hopefully nothing was going on and I could just go home, chiding myself for being so dramatic and overreacting.

I knew that wasn't the case as I rounded the last corner and saw three forms holding what looked like a metal trashcan and standing in front of the glass window of the Firebird Autoshop. My heart leapt up into my throat and heat exploded in my chest and the next thing I knew I was in front of Mike, Jess, and Cal, holding my hands up to stop them. "Don't even think about it," I said slowly, looking in each of their stunned and drugged faces. "I will call the cops if you throw that thing and believe me, I don't want to do that." Jesus, I wouldn't call the cops in the first place. Even if I tried reporting the three they could easily report my involvement in the B&E and then we'd all go down. Fucking morons…Why do I feel like I'm trapped in a chick flick?

Jess sneered and hiccupped. "Just like you didn't want to rob this place? Yeah, 'lex. You're not the best at keeping your promises, you traitor."

"Move," Mike commanded, tensing up to throw the trashcan.

I readied my stance. "I'm not going to do that, Mike. Just put down the trashcan and go home."

"Move!" the larger boy thundered.

"No!" I snapped. "It's wrong! Just think for a moment." Then there was a trashcan flying my way. Or don't think at all. Okay, we'll go with that.

I caught the heavy trashcan as best as I could, but it was entirely too big and heavy for me to do anything else but fall down and back, pushing it to the side and off of me. But before I could move to get up a boot slammed into my head, making me gasp in pain and shock as my body instinctively curled up to protect my vitals. Curses and blows rained down on me. Every attempt I made to get up ended with my hand being ruthlessly stomped on or my side being viciously kicked.

My mind scrambled to think up anything that could get me up and on equal footing, but my mind was too occupied with shock and pain that I was actually being beaten like a dog in the gutter. Jesus, I will never look at a shelter dog the same way again. So sorry little puppies.

But while my mind was spinning in useless circles, my body and instincts were not. My hand lashed out and caught a random foot and a pull was all it took to send the attached body falling back. I dove through the opening, rolling to my feet and pivoting to fight my opponents. My chest-heat pulsed quickly as three bodies rushed me and it was instinct to lash out, punching, kicking, spinning, and sending my opponents to the ground. They couldn't touch me now and a part of me relished in their pained cries, paying them back for their beating, but the larger part of me held back, allowing them to run away and retreat.

My defensive stance dropped slowly as I watched them disappear. "Cowards," I whispered to myself before looking back at the Autoshop to see if anything had gotten damaged. Thankfully, there was only a turned over trashcan laying out of place. I was moving to pick it up and move it when the world suddenly tilted and I had to fight to keep my balance as my head suddenly throbbed and spun. I whistled lowly as I lifted a hand and touched my temple. My fingers came away sticky and wet and I didn't need the faint street lamps' light to know it was blood. "Joyous," I muttered before steeling myself and walking steadily towards the trashcan.

It was beyond tedious and trying to lean over and pick up the stray pieces of trash when my balance kept shifting its sense of up and down, but I pushed my way through and finally replaced the lid on the now standing trashcan. Now, I only had to move it out of the way and then head home. My nauseous stomach promised another challenge in my task, but I loved challenges.

I was just fitting my hands into the uncomfortable handles of the trashcan when a voice shouted. "Hey, Alex!" It was Cal's voice. I was turning to see if they'd come back for a round two when I registered something flying through the darkness towards my head. There was only enough time to know this was going to hurt before something heavy hit me in the forehead.

I was out cold before I even hit the ground.

Check out my profile page for links on how Eric Pheonix looks. Guess as to which Autobot he is? I think it's kind of obvious, but tell me who you think he is. Before looking at the pictures of course, you cheaters. Btw, Eric is HOT.


	4. Chapter 4

So I've officially decided to start updating every Friday and Tuesday. Just better for little old impatient me. It's the first story I've ever completed after all, so I wanna share it. Anyway, chapter four with new characters. I'll leave more links on my profile page for you guys to check out. Just to be clear, none of those pictures that I link to are mine. I can't draw to save my life. The amazing sleepyoldvamp drew all of them. Go check him out on DA.

And I'm curious to know who are your favorite Autobots and Decepticons from any continuity, so make sure to tell me and we'll make it a contest to see which Cybertronian is the most fav.

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DeviantArt

OCs and plot © Me

Again, this is a yaoi story. Don't like, don't read. I won't be held responsible.

It was a really strange way to wake up. The second I started to regain consciousness I knew something was wrong. My bed felt wrong. The air was wrong. And there was the tiny fact that I was being attacked just before passing out.

My eyes jolted open at the reminder and I looked around wildly before realizing that I wasn't outside on the street like I remembered, but in a neat and nice bedroom with the curtains drawn and the lights turned off. It was a room I'd never been in before.

I was moving to sit up when pain lanced through my chest and back, making me fall back into the pillows—very comfy and soft pillows. A glanced down revealed the fact that I'd been stripped of my shirt and that someone had taken the time to rub some sort of ointment into my assortment of bruises. And whatever it was certainly worked because my bruises already looked half healed. A questing hand to my hands also told me that the cut on my forehead had also been seen to and cleaned up.

Question was: who?

More prepared and bracing for the pain and soreness, I sat up and saw my yellow shirt folded in the chair sitting by the bed I'd been resting on. I pulled it on while standing up and moving to the cracked open door. As quietly as possible, I opened the door enough to peer up and down the hall I was in. The right led to a dead end, but looking left let me see a living room and a doorway that probably led to a kitchen. It was a nice and spacious house, I observed as I treaded down the hall, looking for my shoes. They weren't in the room, so I assumed they were somewhere else.

I was just leaning forward to peer into the kitchen and gaped silently. "Eric?" I called uncertainly and the dark man turned from where he was reading the newspaper and sipping coffee.

"Alex," Eric returned with an easy smile before setting down his coffee and getting up. "How are you feeling? You took quite the beating." My shock deepened when the grown man casually lifted my shirt and looked at my bruises, murmuring to himself before letting my shirt fall and poking at the bandage on my head. "Sebastian said that you might have a headache from your concussion and that you could take some Aleve once you'd woken up and eaten something if your stomach was feeling okay."

"Ah. I'm…I'm fine," I stuttered, struggling to get over my shock at meeting Mr. Sexy Rude again. "Is-Is this your house? What am I doing in your house?"

"Here, sit down. You want water? Juice? Soda?"

"Juice," I replied numbly as I fell into the domestic wooden chair, one of several, circling a large wooden table.

Eric moved to grab a cup and the jug of apple juice from the fridge. "I was on my way back to the shop after I realized I forgot my phone there again. I was pulling up just in time to see you take that brick to your head."

"They threw a brick at me?" I repeated in shock, nodding thank you when I was handed the drink.

"They?" Eric repeated, fishing for information.

I let him, figuring that I owed him after taking me in. "The guys who were with me that night in the Autoshop. We had a…falling out after that. They were going to trash your shop and I went to talk them out of it. It obviously got violent."

Eric snorted a laugh, though a glance up at his dark blue eyes told me he was very much angry, but in a quiet cold way. "That is one way to put it. Are you going to report them and press charges?"

"When they could report me for being involved in the B&E of your place?" I shot back with a raised eyebrow before shaking my head. "They're not worth it anyway. I'm sorry they went after your place and that you had to…take care of me."

The older man smiled. "No problem at all. I'm sorry you had to get hurt defending my shop."

I waved a hand. "Not what I'm concerned about. What concerns me is that you keep popping up in my life. Are you still stalking me? Because I'm telling you right now I'm getting really creeped out."

The honest deep laugh that came from the man made the heat in my chest, which I wasn't even aware of until that moment, get hotter and begin to pulse once more. Eric had to hold a hand to his mouth to make sure he didn't cough anything up and his mirth was so contagious that I found my lips quirking in a smile even if I was feeling wary at the moment. "I'm so sorry," the man gasped as he fought to get himself under control. "It's just I've never been told that I 'creeped' someone out."

"First time for everything, right?" I quipped a tad uneasily and Eric nodded in agreement. For a moment, I wished to see his face light up with surprise and laughter, but I stomped that urge down.

"Very true. The truth is that I wasn't even looking for you. It was purely coincidental that I came upon you at that moment." My eyes held his as he said this and searched for even the slightest sign of deceit. It was a bit of a shock to find none, but I didn't let my guard down.

"That doesn't explain why you were following me in the first place."

"Ah. Yes." Eric nodded and looked down at his coffee for a moment. "I suppose I was curious. I'd never quite met someone who reminded me so much of…well, me."

"How does me breaking into your shop remind you of you?" I questioned, partly suspiciously and partly disbelieving.

"You'd be surprised," the man replied with a tiny smile and a wealthy of emotions in those sea blue eyes. The moment of silence stretched on as we just stared at each other, taking one another in at our leisure. The question that bounced in my head was: what was with this guy? What did he want with me? "Anyway," the man began. "Running into you made me consider something." I braced, waiting for him to say he'd changed his mind on what he wanted to keep quiet about the B&E. My eyes quickly flickered left and right, cataloguing my exits as well as Eric's position and how quick he might be. "Have you ever wanted to learn about cars?"

I stared at the man, running the words through my head a few times to make sure I heard him right. "What?"

"You know, how to fix them. How to take them apart and put them back together," he elaborated. "Because I think I would like to teach you. Have an intern or little worker with me, Gabriel, Sebastian, and Jazz."

Honestly, the man could not have offered me a sweeter deal. Well, he could have offered me a paid internship, but that was beside the point. My entire life I'd been fascinated with nothing but machines and engineering. When I was younger I actually took apart the microwave in an effort to understand how it heated up the food with no electrically heated wires like the toaster had. Then, when my parents got pissed, I put it back together and it worked better than it ever had before. And cars were my ultimate fantasy. Cars were actually right up there with other men on what to drool over. I wanted to get a degree in engineering, maybe automotive engineering so that I could spend the rest of my life figuring out how these magical pieces of equipment worked and behaved. But I never thought I'd get a chance to work on cars before college.

It was almost too good to be true. In fact, it probably was. My eyes narrowed at the man. "What's the catch?" I asked quietly.

"No catch," Eric immediately replied. "Like I said before: I don't want anything from you. I just thought since it was cars that brought me to where I am in life now, happy, that it might do the same for you."

I opened and closed my mouth a few times before staring down at my cup of apple juice as my chest-heat flared, bordering on pain. My hand came up and rubbed my sternum as I contemplated the offer. I get to work on cars, learn about them, and do it all for free. And if things got too serious or screwy I could always leave and never look back. Eric didn't know where I lived. At least, I hoped he didn't. "Are you sure?" I questioned after a moment, looking up through my eye lashes. "You're offering the kid who broke into your shop to rob you blind to come back and learn how to fix cars. That doesn't make any sense."

That smile was back and it lit up that tanned face, making my eyes trace over every line and angle. "It doesn't have to make sense. Sometimes you just have to go with what you have in front of you and land wherever it takes you."

I looked over the waiting adult, turning over my overall impression of him and his offer in my head before I nodded slowly. "When do I start?"

I couldn't remember the last time I'd been this nervous. Butterflies filling my stomach to bursting and flooding the rest of my body, hands sweating a tiny bit, a very strong desire to say 'Eff you' and walk away from the source of my nervousness. Oh, yeah. That would be easy. But when have I ever done things the easy way? Plus, who am I to turn down cars?

It could be a trap, a small part of me whispers. He probably won't call the cops now, but he'll lure you in, get you alone, and do what he wants with you. And the second you try and protest or run away he'll threaten to call the cops because what jury is going to believe a thieving teenage punk over a good civilian who probably doesn't even have a parking ticket in his name.

Oh, shut up. I didn't get that vibe from him. Yeah, there's something off about him, but it doesn't feel too weird or shady.

Still doesn't change the fact that it could be a trap.

…No, it doesn't. But the idea of him 'doing what he wants' is kind of hot.

You horny, thoughtless teenager.

You just described the entire teenage population.

Snarky, reckless, sex-driven teenager.

Still describing all teenagers.

STFU.

(^U^)

A soft groan left me as I stood just out of sight of the Autoshop around a corner. My mind was really messed up. If I'm thinking in emoticons I needed to get a move on.

The butterflies fluttered again madly at the thought and I peered around the corner once more. This was the first time I'd seen the shop in broad daylight. I knew it was clean and healthy looking in the dark, but now it actually looked kind of cool and modern. The garage doors weren't actually made of metal like I'd originally thought, but out of what looked like glass that changed its transparency either on command or by the sunlight. Well, it couldn't be glass because that would be ridiculous, but it was something that went from clear to opaque.

There were a few cars parked in the parking lot and I assumed there might be a few people waiting in the reception area for their cars to be finished working on. Two of the three garage doors were up and I could see three men working, moving between tools and cars or elbow deep in the engine. One of which I easily identified as Eric. He was working with a thinner blond man while another man remained mostly out of sight in the second car.

What if Eric told the others that I broke into this place?

I gritted my teeth as guilt swamped me. Feeling guilty sucked. But I made my decision to rob the place and now I have to accept the consequences; even if possibly learning how to work on cars isn't entirely a punishment. Just focus on the positive. Work on cars. Fix cars. See the engine. Take them apart and put them back together.

I forced myself to start walking at a calm and even pace, debating with myself if I should go through reception or just poke my head into the garage. The butterflies started up again as I tried to figure out which decision would be the least rude but then Eric popped his head up from where he was working and smiled as he caught the sight of me before waving me over. My shoulders instantly went tense and my pace stuttered, but I took a deep and steeling breath before crossing the last of the distance.

Eric met me at the line between garage and the outside world, wiping his greasy hands on a worn rag. "It's good to see you, Alex," he said warmly. It was the warmth I saw glowing in his eyes that sort of put me at ease.

I gave him a small, shaky but honest smile back. "Thank you for inviting me," I replied quietly, but knew my voice would be heard by the other two in the garage.

"No problem. Here, put your stuff down over here and take off your jacket. I hope you wore work clothes because you're going to get dirty." I went over to the out of the way table in the corner of the shop and dutifully dropped my backpack off. It was strange to not have homework after a Monday in school, but I would take the free time readily.

"I kind of thought that might be the case," I responded as my black jacket left my arms and left me in only worn blue jeans and a grey shirt.

Eric waited patiently by the bumper of the car he had been working on. "Thinking ahead. Good. Anyway, I'd like to introduce you to my friends and coworkers." I obligingly went to his side, stomach doing front-flips, back-flips, side-flips, and what-the-eff-flips as I readied myself for first impressions. Hopeful, they didn't have too bad of a preconceived idea of me. "Alex, this is Sebastian Lakare."

The blond man Eric was working with straightened with a calculating and evaluating look on his face as he looked me over head to toe. He was maybe an inch taller Eric, with blond hair that was shaved on the sides and back but left to grow on the top. He had a hoop earring through the lobe of each ear. And despite the somewhat punkish look he didn't quite come across like that. Those piercing green eyes that seemed to see everything about me told me that there was a very intelligent mind in that head as well as a personality to allow him to be cool and collected instead of temperamental with a short fuse. His smooth skin without smile lines and the easy but tight control he had over his expressions said the same thing. This was a man of the mind, not the heart. Might as well try and appeal to the man.

I stuck out my hand to him, careful to not slouch and put my other hand in my pocket like I wanted to. "I'm Alex Steek. Nice to meet you."

Those green eyes flicked up from where they were looking at who-knows-what-tiny-detail to meet and hold my eyes. I didn't see anything new exactly than the conclusions I'd already drawn, but I did see the icy coolness behind them melt a bit. A large hand came up and clasped mine, a tiny smile lifting the corner of his thin lips. "Sebastian Lakare. Part-time mechanic and part-time doctor. You're not what I imagined you'd be. Wouldn't you rather be out stealing cars than in here fixing them?"

I stiffened slightly at the word 'stealing', but managed a self-deprecating smile. So he probably did know about the B&E. "Eh. Cars are too easily traced and noticed when stolen," I blurted. "Too much hassle." Oh, shit. I did not just admit my thoughts on stealing a car out loud.

I was about to apologize and back out of the awkward situation when Sebastian chuckled quietly. "Jazz says the same thing. You can call me Seb, kid. No one calls me Sebastian but my mother." I smiled and nodded in acceptance, glad beyond belief I hadn't screwed up with Sebastian…Seb. Maybe Sebbie? Naw. Too kiddish and derogatory. Maybe Doc 'cause he did say he was a part-time doctor.

"And this would be Gabriel Steele, Alex," Eric said, bringing me out of the conversation with Seb to wave a hand at the approach man…er, mountain. Holy mother of God.

He was easily a head taller than Eric, probably coming up to 6'6" and every inch of him was fine-tuned and bulging muscle. A bit too much muscle for my taste, but I needed to focus on my impending doom. His shirt was practically bursting from his muscles underneath and a glance at his hands and forearms showed scars and callouses littering the skin, showing not only hard work but a high tolerance of pain and possibly a willingness to fight. He had a square jaw and face that was free of any stubble and a lone hoop earring in the highest point of his left ear. His hair was brown with a strange splotch of orange on his bangs, falling in which ever direction it pleased though I could see he took care of it and his hygiene. Always good to be killed by a clean man.

But his eyes got me. Why was it always the eyes that got me? I'd never seen anyone with hazel eyes like his, making him almost have orange irises. Almost like the color of embers. And there was a fire behind those eyes. Emotions flicked and shot behind those eyes like bullets from a gun and shone brightly and passionately in them. And as they slid over me I could see the angry, unimpressed, and disgusted look in his eyes. Ugh. I'm dead. Still, make an effort with the Mr. Mountain.

My hand was stuck out once more and I refused to let the stiffness in my back slouch. "Alex Steek," I said simply, meeting those burning eyes with mine and I hoped he didn't see the desperate pleading in them, begging him not to hurt or kill me. "A pleasure to meet you."

Gabriel snorted and made no move to take his hands away from where he crossed his arms. I awkwardly let my hand drop after a moment and let him look me over at his own pace. The entire time I was fighting to remain perfectly still and not squirm under the heated gaze.

Speaking of heat, my chest-heat was back again. It had a slow, lethargic beat this time that reminded me of a lazy cat when it was full and feeling good. Sometimes at the peak of the pulse, when it would be its hottest, it would start to be too much, but then it died down before I did more than twitch.

"Gabriel Steele," Mr. Mountain finally said in a voice deeper than Eric's. It honestly reminded me of mountains. "Former lieutenant of the United States military." Oh, boy. Veiled threats.

I linked my hands behind my back and smiled as best as I could. "Then thank you for your service," I replied promptly. I had been a strange child when I was younger. Cars fascinated me, but so did weapons and guns. And that invariably lead me to a brief interest in the military and war. I'd become so obsessed with it and respectful of what the soldiers were doing that if I was ever out, even today, and saw someone in uniform, I would walk up to them and thank them for helping our country. It wasn't that I was a die-hard patriot, but I could only imagine how hard it would be to live thousands of miles away from anything familiar, knowing you might die the next die or see your friends and comrades die right in front of you. The sacrifice was incomprehensible to me, but I could imagine that it was enough to at least earn a simple thank you.

Shock and surprise filled those eyes for a brief moment before Gabriel hid it behind suspicion and mistrust. "Whatever," he muttered, turning back to the car he had been working on.

I jumped when a hand landed on my shoulder and looked up to see Eric's smiling face. "You did good. He didn't even curse you out." My only response was to shrug slightly. I think I still screwed up royally with Gabriel. It would be an 'uphill battle', as they say, in order to at least get into neutral territory with that guy.

"He could've been more civilized," Seb grumbled before going back to the car.

Eric shrugged. "This is Gabe we're talking about here," he pointed out and Seb only huffed in derision. "Come on, Alex," Eric called as I trailed after him to Seb's side. "We could use someone to fetch tools and hold things while we work."

"Sure," I responded calmly, settling my heart down from the race it had been going through from the second I'd walked into the garage. "What can I do?"

The next few hours flew by. Eric and Sebastian obvious knew what they were doing as their hands flew to the guts of cars and repairing it. They would often talk in sentences like 'It's that thing again. You know the one that gave you trouble a few weeks ago?' 'Oh, yeah. You spent hours with that one thingamajig beating the living crap—sorry, kid—crud in your frustration.' 'Reminds me of the time Gabe nearly tore that one car apart. That one beat up car?' 'That's right. Heh. I still laugh at the thought.'. The two reminded me of the girls at my school who seemed to be talking in code, but it was only now that I realized that it was simply as confusing as it was because the two knew each other so well. They practically spent every day together in each other's company.

I envied them. Now that I thought about friends I realized I no longer had any. With the three douches officially on my Shit List and my usual shy behavior I no longer had anyone I could count as a friend. Sure, I had quite a few acquaintances. I mean, I was cheerful and happy when I wasn't stressed out of my mind, so I guess people liked to be around that. Not to mention I'm great in school so sometimes people will ask me for help with homework or to study. I'd even earned a few bucks tutoring a few kids. But there wasn't anybody I would consider a friend. A friend to me was someone I could call up in the middle of the night, needing help, and they'd be there in a heartbeat. Right now, I don't think anyone would do that for me.

Depressing thoughts, depressing thoughts, I mentally chanted, shaking them off as I leaned my head around to see what Eric was doing. It was obvious that he was taking the time to tell me what each part was and what he was doing. He was a good teacher so far, if a little fast paced even for me. He and Seb tag-teamed explaining to me what the problem was in the car and how they were going to fix it. Sometimes Eric would have to leave to go greet another customer and get them settled because the way these three worked they had a car in their garage for maybe an hour or two tops and then pulled another one in to work on.

I observed and helped as best as I could. Something I didn't want to do was be in the way or dragging them down, so I always made sure never to lean in too close to see what was going on and listened closely to when they described a tool I didn't know before hurrying to get it. By the way, I was right about the tool boxes being locked with card scanners. Eric gave me his card so I could get what he needed, but I couldn't help but feel a little guilty about the reminder.

One thing I couldn't help but notice as I played fetch for the guys was that everything was organized to an OCD level almost. All the screws, nuts, bolts, and tiny little guys that were easy to lose had a fist-sized drawer in this massive wall of drawers. Each drawer was labeled neatly with what was inside and the measurements of the thing. And the tool boxes mostly seemed to be divided up between each man. Eric always had me going back to a blue toolbox that had flames painted on it while Seb occasionally moved over to a clean white toolbox, and I could see Gabe working out of a black one that he pulled over to where he was working. And by toolbox I meant the big tall ones with hundreds of drawers that was taller than I was and had little wheels on the bottom to make moving it easy. There was another toolbox that was untouched; it was bright red with tons of stickers and paintings on it and I couldn't help but wonder what the owner must be like to have a toolbox like that.

At some point Gabe called Eric over to help him and Seb nodded me to come stand by him. "Ever seen coolant hoses before?" he asked.

I looked down at the engine of the minivan that Seb had pulled in a moment ago. "I'm assuming they're the thick black hoses?" I replied, motioning at the tubes I was talking about while being careful not to touch anything. The engine had been on a minute ago and might still be hot.

"You assume correctly. And you're going to replace them." I blinked up at him and he smiled a bit. "Don't look so startled. It's easy. Now, you're going to need…" The list of tools he needed wasn't that long since he already had a few of them already next to him, and the list of screws and clamps he needed was easy to remember. I returned and carefully dumped the needed pieces on a wheeled table before looking to Seb for instructions. He nodded and pointed to the hoses. "Okay. You see here? Where the hose is warped and worn looking?" I nodded easily, it didn't look like a healthy hose. "These are signs that a coolant hose needs replacing. First thing you're going to do is…"

Seb, I was learning, was a patient and calm teacher. I moved as quickly but steadily as I could, listening as he told me to loosen the clamps or carefully lift the tube. He didn't elaborate a lot on what he said, so sometimes I had to pause and puzzle out his meaning before doing as he said. I also found out that Seb stressed the importance of safety, making sure the coolant was out of the tube so it didn't get on me, not leaning up too fast or else I'll hit my head on the hood, not blindly reaching for the next tool because there were some pretty sharp ones they worked with. But I really appreciated and liked Seb's teaching and how he just let me do everything as he watched and told me what to do. It told me that he thought I was competent enough to do this and it felt good to have some faith in me.

Seb checked the screws and the tightness of the clamps before nodding and patting me on the shoulder. "Good job, kid. You did it like a professional."

I grinned as I lowered the hood down and made sure it locked in place. "Thanks for letting me do that," I said, bouncing lightly on my toes. "I really enjoyed that."

Seb's smile grew as he squeezed my shoulder kindly. "Then I guess we'll see you here tomorrow."

My smile dropped a bit as I cast a look over at Gabe and Eric. "If that's alright."

"Why wouldn't it be?" Seb questioned easily, removing his hand from my person. "You're a good kid, Alex. And I expect you to be here tomorrow or I'll send Gabe out to get you."

I chuckled a bit uneasily and mock saluted. "Sir, yes, sir," I murmured before looking up at the clock. "Shit!" I dashed for where I knew the bathroom was and quickly washed the grease and dirt from my hands. "I'm sorry, but I've got to get to work!" I shouted as I ran out of the bathroom, snatching up my backpack and jacket with a little spin so I didn't lose any momentum.

I heard Eric call after me. "See you tomorrow!"

A grin was firmly plastered on my face as I called over my shoulder. "See you tomorrow!"

Go to my profile page if you wanna see how awesome Sebastian and Gabriel look. And be sure to guess on which Autobots they are. Again, it's kind of obvious, but I wanna hear what you guess think. Make sure you check out sleepyoldvamp on DA too for more amazing work in this AU. This link is also on my profile page.

And I think I'm going to start a contest. Tell me which Autobot, Decepticon, or Cybertronian you love the most and why you love them. As I post we'll see which one of our robotic friends is the most popular and who is not. AND PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK OF THE STORY SO FAR! Even if you're pointing out a grammar or spelling mistake I want to hear. I live off of reviews and comments. I _need _them!

I'm also going to update Thursday instead of Friday 'cause I'm having work done on my teeth Friday and I have a feeling I'll be so loopy that no one is going to want me to post on Friday if I even manage it. So, see you Thursday!


	5. Chapter 5

Heyyo, party people! Another update and another Autobot! Hope you guys like. Remember to tell me who your favorite Cybertronians are. You can even bring in OCs as long as you tell who originally made them. And please tell me what you think of the story!

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DA

OCs and plot © me

The next day, I don't spend ten minutes watching the shop from the corner but walk in with only a degree of the uncertainty I felt yesterday. Eric was a little frazzled as he looked up and called me over to help him. Apparently Seb and Gabe were taking forever getting lunch and he needed another hand to do this one thing. The two came back with two bags of food from a local burger joint just as the car Eric was working on was given back to its owner. Eric took a break, cleaning up so he could eat, while Seb and Gabe went back to work. I was obviously working with Seb.

"So what kind of classes are you taking at school?" Eric asked conversationally from where he sat on a work bench, munching on fries. He'd offered me some food, but it didn't escape my notice that there wasn't a fourth burger so I politely declined, telling him I ate before coming here. My stomach was unhappy but easily ignored. "You go to Uptown High, right?"

"Yeah," I answered absently as I watched Seb fill up all the fluid reservoirs. "I'm a junior there. I'm taking Zero Hour World Geography, Calculus Honors, AP European History, AP American Literature, AP Biology, Automotive Care, and AP Spanish. Sometimes I'll drop by the debate club if I have nothing to do and argue with them." Silence echoed in the shop. I couldn't hear Gabriel muttering to himself or Eric shuffling through the paper bag, and Seb's hands froze in place. Curious, I looked up and found them all staring at me with wide disbelieving eyes. "What?" I demanded, looking quickly between the three. It was almost as if they were frozen in time.

"What's your cumulative GPA?" Seb asked, not taking his eyes off of me.

I blinked and frowned. "Four-point-Oh."

Gabriel whistled lowly. "Jesus, kid," he said, shaking his head. "Didn't know you were a fucking genius."

My face instantly heated up at the compliment from the surly adult and I looked back down at the engine I was helping Seb with. "It's not that hard," I mumbled, trying to control the red I knew my cheeks were turning. "It's high school. Nothing's hard there."

"Are you planning on going to college?" Eric asked and it relieved me to see the three moving once more, getting over their apparent shock.

I nodded and shyly looked over to the tanned man. "Yeah. I'm hoping to get into Central State University. They have a great engineering department."

"Planning on working on cars professionally?"

"Yeah. I've always been tinkering with things since I was a kid. Took apart my microwave when I was six and put it back together. Worked better than it ever had before."

Sebastian grinned and shook his head, kindly nudging my hand with his. "You're going to go far in life, Alex. If you're getting straight A's in all those classes Central State won't have any problem taking you in."

"How do you always get your homework done?" Eric suddenly asked in a concerned tone. "If you're coming here right after school and have a job just after this—"

"An illegal job," Sebastian muttered.

Eric continued as if Seb hadn't spoken, though I tensed. "When do you have time to get all that stuff done?"

"I finish it all during school," I explained haltingly, casting a look at where my backpack sat. "I mean, like I said, it's not that hard. I read ahead in the book and do the practice problems and everything. So while the teachers are lecturing I'll be half listening while working on my homework. Most times, I finish it all before school gets out."

"Damn, kid," Gabriel said, his tone telling me he was slightly impressed, though I refused to look over and confirm what I heard.

"Wow," Eric murmured, and a glance told me he was stunned frozen once more.

My mind latched onto a new topic that was safely away from any and all input from me. "So how did you guys start the Firebird?"

Eric blinked several times before his lips quirked. "I started the business when I was 20, about seven years ago now. I've always been working on cars and I got an AA so I thought I might give it a shot. For a year and a half I was working on my own and it was a little shack of a shop."

Gabriel snorted. "It was a broom closet."

"Shut up. My story. Anyway, after about a year and a half, this giant ex-military man comes up to me and asks me if I have a job opening." My eyes flicked to Gabriel questioningly and Eric nodded, answering my unspoken question. "Gabe started working for me and we were able to make enough profit that I was able to buy this place and move shop."

"It's my charming, good looks," the ex-lieutenant teased gruffly. "I brought in all the ladies."

"Don't let Jazz hear you say that," Seb piped up, holding a hand up for a tool, which I quickly gave him. Gabe only chuckled, the kindest sound I've heard from him yet.

"It was actually around then that Jazz showed up," Eric cut in, crumbling up the fast food bags and moving to throw them out. "You'll probably meet him soon, Alex. He never stays away for long. He's part-time here like Sebastian."

"Little shit," Gabe muttered and Eric smacked him on the back as he passed.

"Stop interrupting," he ordered jokingly. "This is about three or four years after I first opened up. Things were good and we were settling down when Gabe here drags Sebastian home with him."

"'Home'?" I repeated. The way he said it had me curious. It was almost like he meant it home for all of them.

"We all room together at Eric's place," Seb explained with a wry smirk. "Jazz calls us a dysfunctional family, but we get along without attempting to murder each other too many times."

"Ah," I murmured in understanding before looking to Eric to continue.

"And that's pretty much it. Jazz moved out after he got married and had a kid, but he still comes by here when he can. Sebastian and Gabriel have been working with me for years now and my business is where it now thanks to all of them."

"You give us too much credit, Eric," Sebastian said, not bothering to look up from where he was buried in an engine. "If you weren't doing all of that horrid paperwork and taxes this wouldn't be possible."

"Not to mention all the grief we cause each other," Gabe added before suddenly changing his tone and look. It was like he was…leering at Sebastian. And it wasn't the disgusting sneer that Jess did, but an honest to god lustful look. One that said he would like nothing better than to take Sebastian behind a door and lock it for a while. My face blushed slightly at the expression as I looked between the two quickly. "And all the _noise_."

To my shock, Seb just turned and smiled coyly at the larger man. "You were the one making the noise last night," he pointed out nonchalantly.

Gabriel grinned and snipped back, but I was too busy trying to hide my shock. Gabriel and Sebastian were in a relationship? They were gay? I never would've effin guessed. Oh, God. Stop trying to imagine them together! Stopstopstopstop! But they're so _hot_! How can I not?! I mean, look at Gabriel. He's massive, right? Does that mean he's massive…everywhere? Oh, for the love of all that is mother fucking holy! Stop before you embarrass yourself!...Fiiiinnnnneeeee.

…I needed help.

"You okay there, Alex?"

I looked up and grinned at Eric, seeing from the corner of my eye that Seb and Gabriel were watching me for a reaction. "Yeah. I'm just finding these two funny. But I know Gabriel will kill me if I laugh."

Mr. Mountain huffed, but I swear I saw a tiny smile on his lips. "Damn straight I would."

Seb rolled his eyes and bumped my shoulder with his. "He's terribly crass and crude. Let me know if he's being especially horrible around you. He knows better than to swear around children."

"He's 17!"

"I'm 17!"

"You still can't legally work," Sebastian pointed out dryly while throwing a wrench at Gabriel without looking. I couldn't help but crack up laughing when the large when went down with a yelp. "It's 6:45," the blond told me as he smirked at the sound of hitting his target.

I nodded and detached myself from the engine. "I'll see you guys tomorrow!"

I've been coming to the Firebird shop for the past week and I no longer shied from entering the garage. Sure, I still stood quietly, trying to locate one of the guys if they weren't in the garage to make sure it was okay that I showed up that day before I set down my stuff, but I didn't hesitate anymore to enter their domain.

Eric showed me how to do basic maintenance on cars. Changing oil, checking the fluid levels, hoses, and tires. In fact, when a car came in and just needed maintenance, Eric just called me over and pointed me to it. The first time he did this I was so effin nervous as I worked, careful not to spill a single drop of oil and get the fluid levels _just_ to the designated 'full' line on the car. I didn't know how fast I was moving until Sebastian joked that I might have set a new record on maintenance. And from that day—it was only two days ago—it became my job to do the basic things while the guys worked on the more complex things.

The first time I cut my finger on a jagged piece of metal on the under carriage of some car Sebastian seemed to know the instant it happened. Which didn't make sense to me because I didn't do more than wave my hand to shake off the sting before going back to work and the next thing I know Seb is pulling my little scooter and me out from under the car and telling me that I should never try and work with an open cut.

Gabriel was still a bit distant, but I knew he was keeping an ear out for me because I would be puttering around the garage, cleaning up while the others worked and Gabriel would startle me half to death by telling me that no, that tool didn't go there but he needed it anyway so if you could just bring it over… Yeah. He was an okay guy. I still got angry vibes off of him sometimes, but I think me not directly bothering him but still being around him was helping a tiny bit.

Eric was great. He was a great teacher and a great person to talk to. Sebastian and I could go on for a little bit about this new law or the latest news, but Eric and I talked about more personal things. He'd managed to get from me that I wasn't close to my parents and that I didn't have the greatest social life. We'd also had a conversation that went on for most the day when we got onto the topic of drugs and alcohol. We actually got into a heated debate on whether the cheap cans of beers were worth drinking in the first place before Gabriel cut in and said he'll keep drinking his beer and no upstart little kid is going to convince him to stop. Seb popped into the debate on drugs quite a bit, quoting effects on health and stories he's heard and cases he's seen.

And the entire time I was learning about cars. I was becoming quite proficient at the basic care and I would watch as closely as I could as the men tried to figure out why the car was making this odd sound or was draining so quickly of this fluid. I was never bored and I was finding that I actually enjoyed myself in the company of the three grown men and the cars that were always coming in.

My chest-heat proved to be a bit of a dampener in some situations. It would randomly come up at times and either just sit in my chest, pulsing slowly or beating so fast I wondered if I was going to have a heart attack. Well, if I did Seb was there to keep me alive. But I was careful to not show any sign of my discomfort of it and eventually it just became a regular part of my day. Sometimes it would come up, other times it wouldn't, and sometimes it scares me with its intensity and suddenness. But I let it go since I haven't keeled over yet.

It was 12 days since I first showed up at the shop to help out and had been showing up every day since then. And it was on that Thursday afternoon that a new face appeared.

"'Sup, bitches!"

"What the—" My question was cut off as I jolted up and soundly bumped my head against the raised hood of the truck I was working on. I muttered curses to myself as I careful pulled myself out of the car, ignoring Gabriel's snickers behind me.

"Hello, Jazz," Eric greeted warmly, smiling in the direction of the garage door and my interest rose. Jazz was here?

"Eric, my man!" a blur shouted as it came into sight and attached itself to Eric in a glomping hug, causing the man to stumble a bit. "It's been forever!"

"It was only a week and a half, you child," Seb corrected coldly, but I saw the smile on his face as he glanced at the man hugging Eric.

"Oh, Sebby, don't be that…Hello! New Kid!" I jolted as a dark man suddenly appeared in front of me, seemingly teleporting from Eric to me. Luckily he didn't glomp me. The man grinned at me from under his blue shades. "Yo. I'm Jazz Collins. Nice to meet you."

"Uh. Alex Steek," I stuttered, stunned by the energy this man seemed to be exuding out of his pores. He was about my height, dark skinned but in a way that said he might be Jamaican and his accent screamed the South. Now that I thought about it, Gabriel had a bit of a Southern twang to his accent as well, but it was faded. Anyway, Jazz had shoulder length hair that was done up in corn rows and held back by a thick hair tie. His face was smooth of all stubble and was clear except for this black tattoo that barely came up and over his jaw and traced down his neck to disappear over his shoulder. He was wearing a silver shirt and skinny black jeans. All in all, he seemed young and full of energy. "Nice to meet you, too."

"Recruiting young, aren't you, Eric?" Jazz quipped, looking me over before tilting his sunglasses down and looking me in the eye with a mischievous twinkle. I was a bit more surprised by the yellow shade of his irises than by what he might be thinking. "You know them old men. Always robbing the cradle." I couldn't stop the laugh that the man startled out of me, but I let him put an arm over my shoulders and pull me to his side. "You know good touch, bad touch, right? Of course you do. You're a smart kid. See, I can just tell by looking at you. But if you ever get a bad touch you come tell me and I'll have all my cop buddies come down and arrest their asses. They'd be here two minutes flat. Ah, the perks of being a cop."

I was grinning and chuckling at the rapid words falling out of the man's mouth until he mentioned being a cop. I stiffened a bit, but forced myself to relax. Eric wouldn't turn me in now. Would he?

My head spun a bit as Jazz bounced away from me and headed to the giant stereo that had been sitting unused the entire time I had been here. "What's with the boring silence?" Jazz demanded as he opened a music case and pulled out a CD, talking over Gabriel's moaning and complaining about peace and quiet. "You've got a growing boy here and you're not setting a very good example."

"And you are the greatest role model for impressionable teenagers," Sebastian snarked, voice dripping in sarcasm. I couldn't help but grin at the banter while turning back to the truck that needed its air filter checked.

"Finally! Someone agrees with me!" Just then music was blasted through the garage, starting up a very familiar tune. I couldn't help but laugh at the cliché moment as Cops filled my head. A glance over my shoulder showed Gabriel fighting with Jazz to have control of the volume and my smile grew. This was hilarious.

Gabriel eventually won the fight due to his size and threatening to break Jazz's shades and the volume was taken down to a level that we could hear each other talk over. My head was bobbing to the tune and I was singing the words to myself as I removed the air filter from its place. Filthy. I was turning to get clean it before coming face to face with a grinning Jazz. My chest-heat flared when he reached out to steady when I stumbled, and I swear it began to dance, pulsing an irregular beat that coincided with the music.

Jazz grinned at me. "I know a music lover when I see one," he told me, raising his voice to be heard. "You know how to dance?"

My head was shaking before I even knew I was answering. "I don't dance," I told him as I moved around him to continue my job. The man followed at my heels, tugging at my sleeve like a child to his mother. This was a grown man, right?

"What do you mean you don't dance? Everyone dances? Even stick-up-his-ass Gabe does."

"I've never danced," I elaborated, feeling a bit embarrassed.

Jazz gasped and moved in front of me, taking off his sunglasses and shamelessly gaping at me. "Never. Danced?" I nodded wordlessly. "Oh, no, no, no. That won't do." Before I knew what was happening, Jazz snatched the filter from my hands and was pulling me to a relatively open area. "Alright. It's easy, okay?"

"I need to get back to work," I protested, cutting him off.

Gentle hands caught my arms before I even turned halfway. "Naw, Alex. I'm not letting you work until you dance with me. Might as well get it over with." He tsked when I tugged on the grip to see if I could break it. "Don't even think about it." Suddenly, the world spun and I felt something pressing against me from my back to my butt. It didn't take a genius to realize it was Jazz as he settled his hands on my hips. "Okay, just listen to the song. You can hear the beat and rhythm."

I tried leaning away, face flaming from the intimate contact. "I really should get back to—"

"Nope!" Jazz tightened his grip on my waist before moving his hips side to side, taking mine with him. I squeaked at the movement, face absolutely red. "You're going to dance with me. Now…" I felt Jazz press his chin to my shoulder and I turned my head to try and see him, but stopped when I realized how close our faces were. Jazz smiled, unashamed. "I just want you to listen to the song. Not even to the words but to the sounds and beats underneath it. The vibrations in the air and ground. Close your eyes. Go on. I won't do anything to you." When he saw that I wasn't inclined to close my eyes anytime soon, Jazz impatiently put one of his hands over my face.

"Does this count as bad touch?" I quipped, moving my head side to side to test how closely the hand was going to stay over my eyes.

Jazz laughed, but I felt him shake his head. "I want you to just listen, just feel. Can you hear the thrumming? The cords in the air?" Oh, dear. I was hyper aware of the muscled and corded body pressed to mine, but I turned my attention to my ears. It was something I'd always noticed. Whenever I found a song I liked I would listen to it over and over again, hearing the different layers under the words and trying to identify the instruments and their purpose. My hips twitched a bit as I let the sounds occupy most of my focus.

"There you go," Jazz murmured, twitching his hips to match mine. "You're already doing it. Just let the sounds go through your body and direct your motions. You don't even have to think, just let the music decide."

A frown touched my lips. How can I not think about what my body was doing? Well, you did move your hips unintentionally there a second ago… True. I went back and reviewed the memory of the brief moment, taking in everything I heard and felt and 'copied and pasted' it into the present. My hips moved again, in a slightly bigger movement. Jazz chuckled encouragingly, never once removing his hand from my face, and moving with me. Curious about how the sounds could 'direct' me, as Jazz said, I added my legs and arms into the equations.

My right foot went out and Jazz followed with it as I rolled my hips in a tight circle, pressing back closely to Jazz's crotch. One of my hands went to the one Jazz held on my waist and the other reached up and over to wrap in Jazz's braids. "Oh, boy," Jazz murmured, a grin in his voice. And then I moved.

It was…strange to simply let my body go with the beat music and a small part of me was screaming in the back of my head about how bad I must be dancing and how horrible I must be moving. A slightly larger part was purring at the warmth that constantly stayed glued to my back, murmuring and giving me praise, telling me to keep going. That part of me was blushing like a school girl since I could feel every breath of those words on my ear. But the largest part of me, the teenager that revealed in the chance to try something new and have fun, was grinning as my body shook and rolled with the music. It was almost like I was practicing martial arts with the way I moved my body and muscles, but no martial arts would have me rolled my hips in that way or arching my back to press tighter into my dancing partner. It was like learning a new martial arts all over again, but one my body already seemed to know even if my mind didn't.

The music stopped after an indeterminate amount of time and my smile was still on my face even though I wanted to pout. Jazz kept his hand over my eyes as he laughed and rested his chin on my shoulder again. "Holy crap, kid. You're hot when you let go." I tried ducking my head to hide my blush, but Jazz wouldn't let me. "You are so coming with me when I go clubbing next. I know all the good places. You, of course, won't have anything to drink, but I'll get you in and we can party all night long and you can bring me all the nice ladies—"

"You're married, you ass," Gabriel called from somewhere to my right.

"And I thought you were supposed to be a good role model." That would be Seb. "Taking a minor clubbing is nowhere near that."

Jazz still didn't remove his hand, remaining pressed closely to my back. Almost like he was spooning me. It felt nice. But I think I would like someone bigger spooning me. Someone with blue eyes and tantalizingly thick black hair and…Down, boy. I shook my head side to side. "Can I please go back to work now?" I asked nicely. "I danced with you. So let me go."

The man behind me rumbled with laughter and finally lifted his hand, letting me step away even I did shiver at losing his warmth. It was nothing on Eric's warmth, but it was still warm. "That you did. That you did. I will get you to come out dancing with me one of these days," he warned me as I left him to go back to my air filter.

I smiled over my shoulder, still high from the fun I'd had just moment ago. "I don't do partying. I'd rather be at home." Jazz spluttered indignantly, vowing on his mother's grave to get me out on a late night. I laughed at him and almost missed Eric. Almost. I don't think I could ever miss him.

He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and body tense with this interesting light in his eye. It wasn't exactly lust like I'd seen in the eyes of perverts on the streets, but it was no less bright. Maybe…Maybe he liked what he saw when I was dancing. Hmm… My inner, horny teenager began to plot.

Meanwhile, I just grinned at him, face flushed from the brief workout before turning back to my work. When Jazz put the music back on, my hips may or may not have been softly swaying to the tune. Who knew I would like dancing so much? Maybe it was Jazz. He made it easy to just listen and go with it. But I would surely dance with him again if he asked.

Two weeks passed after that and I found myself always looking forward to heading to the Firebird after school. There was always something new to learn, something to laugh about, something to do. I loved it. But sometimes school did get in my way.

So, one Monday after school I sat on one of the work benches, bent over my notebook as I furious wrote down my essay. It was abnormally quiet. Most times there would be a discussion going on or Gabe and Seb would be flirting or someone was cursing but, for now, it was just Gabe and I in the garage as Eric and Seb talked with this difficult customer.

I wanted to get my work done as soon as possible so I could get to doing what I was quickly coming to love. Gabe was tinkering with this replacement part too far away, turning it over and taking measurements to make sure it was the right piece.

"What are you working on?"

It was only years of experience that kept me from jolting and drawing a thick line across my paper. I looked up to see Gabe looking at me out of the corner of his eye in faint interest. It was the first time he'd really shown interest in me alone, so, of course, I was going to try and milk this for all that it was worth. "Oh. It's an essay for my world geography class. My teacher wants us to write an essay about our thoughts on war. It's due in a week, but I figured I might as well finish it now so I don't have to worry about it later."

Gabe nodded and reached for a tool. "That's a good work ethic to have." I was floundering for a way to continue the conversation when Mr. Mountain spoke again. "So what are your thoughts on war?"

That question, coming from a veteran, was loaded. I needed to be careful on how I answered this. I frowned down at my paper and tapped my pencil against it. "I don't know," I finally answered with a sigh. "I mean, it's so complicated it would take me weeks to properly get it down on paper. I can see a monetary benefit to war. There are records that show that the United States has experienced its best times in economy in war time as well as explosions in the job market. Not to mention growth in patriotism and moral. But I don't think that's worth any war; even a one-day war. I'm never going to be able to really understand what really goes on in war, but I know there's more to it than the glory and sense of self-satisfaction that commercials are always going on and on about. We lose hundreds of people each day in war and nobody seems to know that. You just don't hear about it. And since when is it America's job to police other nations? It's just ridiculous. All of it is so ridiculous that I can't quite get it all myself. Why do we have to go to war? Are Americans really so absorbed with the idea of 'Merica that they'll kill thousands of other people and end countless futures? I…I just don't get it."

Gabe was silent and I watched him turn a screw over in his fingertips, eyes distant. When he didn't reply right away I turned back to my paper, thinking I'd messed up my answer to the veteran. Damn. "Sometimes we go in for family."

I hissed when I actually did end up drawing a streak across my paper this time in surprise, but I ignored it in favor of turning Gabriel. "Did you go into the service for your family?" I asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the thoughtful look in those hazel eyes.

Gabe nodded slowly. "My little brother. Trenton Steele, but we all called him 'Cliffjumper' because he was stupid enough to break both of his legs doing that when he was younger. He completely missed the lake." I couldn't imagine how one could do that, but I remained quiet, hoping he would continue. "We were able to go through boot camp together and get into the same division. I rose a bit in the ranks, eventually getting to lieutenant as he stayed down low, preferring to have fun and horse around to being serious. But that was Cliff. He was always there with a funny story and a joke and a gun strapped to his side." Gabe laughed hoarsely. "It's what got him killed. And I couldn't stop it."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, watching closely as he put down the screw and leaned heavily on the table, head down so I couldn't see his face.

Gabe huffed. "He went down with a goddamn smile on his face. Said that he smiled so much because I hardly smiled at all and he needed to make up for it. That stupid, son of a bitch." A deep inhale. "After he was buried, I couldn't…focus. I couldn't do my job anymore. I'd lost my drive to fight. Because I was fighting for my brother. So many people were with me when I went on my tour in Iraq. And we were all friends and talking about what we missed and why we were there. Not one of them said they were protecting their country. They always said they were doing this for their friends. Their family." Pained hazel eyes came up and held my own. I may or may not have imagined the wet sheen in them. "The rest of my family is dead. My ma died giving birth to Cliff and pa drank himself to death. I raised my lil brother and went to war for him. I did it so I could keep him alive and get him home. I lost everyone else and I most certainly wasn't losing him. Fat lot of good that did."

His head went down again and I shifted uncomfortably before setting aside my notebook and quietly getting up from my seat. I knew he was aware that I was approaching him, but he didn't move until I lightly touched his arm. He straightened, turning to look at me with eyes fully of memories of the past, and I threw caution to the wind as I took one more step forward and reached up to wrap my arms around his neck, hugging the man. Gabriel tensed and I thought for sure I was going to be pushed away in the long moment that we stood frozen, but then impossibly strong arms came up and wrapped around my back, a chin coming to rest on the top of my blond hair.

"You remind me of him, you know," he whispered hoarsely. "Cliff. You always have this smile on your face and you're always ready to have a laugh. You're more skittish and thinner than him, but I can see the similarities."

I slowly rested my head on his chest, relaxing my muscles bit by bit so he got the idea that I trusted him not to hurt me and to keep me safe, which was mostly true in any sense. "Then can I say something, and you can see if it is something your little brother would say?" I asked hesitantly, not sure if the closed off man would let me do something so personal. The chin on my head moved in a nod and I thought my words over carefully. "It's fine to have moments when you're sad and depressed," I started. "But, seriously, being grumpy all the time is a bit of a letdown. I think you can give a few more smiles each day, doncha think?"

The chest my head was pressed to started to vibrate and shake. I didn't know what it was until Gabriel started to laugh out loud. A smile touched my face as his arms tightened around me. Apparently I chose my words well. "Yeah, that's something Cliff would say," he murmured once he got himself together. He held me a moment longer before loosening his grip and stepping back. Those hazel eyes actually seemed to glow with warmth and happiness even if it was tinged with a bit of sadness. "You're a good kid, Alex," he finally said, smiling.

I clipped my heels together and smiled cheekily. "Who? Me?"

Gabe snorted and ruffled my hair, tugging on my black bangs even if they snapped right back up into place. "Brat." I laughed at him as I skipped back to the table, hopping up and happily tearing out my essay. I crumbled it up and shot it towards the garbage can, which I missed by a mile.

I finally had something I could effectively write about.

A week later, when my essay had been graded and returned to me, I saw Gabriel standing by my backpack, looking over the paper that I had 'accidentally' left out. He had this sweet smile on his face and when he looked over, sensing my gaze, he nodded and smiled before putting the paper down. I'd gotten an A on a paper talking about going to war for family. I felt like I owed it to Gabriel. And his soft happiness was worth the time I'd wasted restarting my paper.

So…Just so you know Jazz is one of my top three picks for favorite Cybertronians. You can only imagine how pissed I was when Michael Bay killed him off in the first movie. MOVING ON Jazz is really effin shameless in my fic. He's the comedic relief that just makes you want to laugh and headdesk at the same time. At least I think that's how he comes across. *shrug*. His character kind of ran away from me, which I'm not surprised because he's Jazz.

And Bee is a closet genius. I figure that if anyone doesn't like their home life they'll do everything in their power to get away from it. Luckily Alex came to the conclusion that college and education and a good career was the way to get away from home. So yes, he's a bit anxious to make sure he doesn't ruin his perfect record. And for those of you who look at perfect student and then B&E hooligan I can explain that Bee, while biting at the bit to get away from home, can't in good conscious leave his family without any money. So he helped out as best as he could until he realized exactly what he was doing to other people. Not to mention when I was digging through anything and everything Chasing the Flame AU on DA I found a few mentions of Alex meeting Eric when Alex broke into Eric's place. I ran with the idea.

As for the last moment with Gabe…He's a bit OOC because he's not usually the type to spill his painful past to someone he's only known for a handful of days, but I wanted to get more into Gabe's character and show how Gabe is going to see Alex later in the story. As for picking Cliffjumper for his younger bro I once read a fanfic that had the same family relation and it sort of clicked and made a ton of sense to me. Too bad I killed him off. I never did feel a connection to his character like I do others. Sorry Cliff fans.

Check out my profile for picture links on Jazz! He's amazing! And remember to check out sleepyoldvamp on deviantart.

See ya Tuesday! Review and tell me who your fav alien is and why!


	6. Chapter 6

Hi! It's update time again and another Autobot, though he's only briefly mentioned. Sorry about that, but it's a longer chapter! So look at the bottom for more picture links and a video to show a fighting hold a describe in detail in this scene.

"Hey, kid. Why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow night?"

That's how I ended up in Eric's house again, leaning against the kitchen island and cutting up an onion. It was my job apparently to cut up all the veggies for spaghetti. Gabe refused to go near the onion and I think it was because he didn't want to risk crying. Sebastian had firmly told Eric he was forbidden from the kitchen because 'you can't wield a blade to save your life and you burn everything you touch that's not metal to a black crisp'. Eric quickly backed out of the kitchen when faced with a spatula-wielding Seb and hung out near the counter-slash-window that looked out into the spacious and luxurious living room. I didn't really look last time, but Eric's house was amazingly awesome and expensive.

I was wowed as I stepped into the house, carefully toeing off my shoes at the doorway so I didn't track in anything on the thick white carpet. The ceiling was incredibly high and the entry hall led to the awesome decked out living room with massive couches and a TV and entertainment system that I knew Jazz put together by hand. The kitchen nearly blinded me in its clean and shining glory and I saw two hallways branching off to other rooms and bathrooms and closets. It was a single story home with maybe a basement, I don't know I didn't get a good look coming in, but it was spacious and well taken care of.

Seb immediately put me on cutting duty with Jazz as he began to mix a whole bunch of stuff. The cooking had barely started and I was already drooling. There were so many fresh ingredients and, when he saw me gaping at it, Jazz told me that Sebastian never let anything preprocessed or unhealthy into his kitchen. Good doctor and all. There were two fridges for Christ's sake!

When my job was done I moved out of the kitchen and sat next Eric by the window-counter, watching as the blond man made dinner while scolding Gabriel for trying to get a taste of the sauce. "You have a nice house," I complimented.

Eric grinned. "Thanks. It's been in my family for years and we've just made sure to renovate every once and a while. It's not expensive when I have four helpers to do the work of a dozen men."

"It's nice to have friends," I agreed readily, slowly beginning to count the four men as my friends. "Where is your family?" I asked curiously. It was something that never really came up. Sure Eric and I discussed my family from time to time when I didn't feel the need to steer the conversation in another direction, but for some reason his family had never come up.

The ebony-haired man took a sip of his beer. "My parents died just after I graduated high school," he told me. "They couldn't have any children, so they adopted me as their only child. After they passed they left everything to me."

"I'm sorry."

The man shrugged. "Don't be. Yeah, it hurts sometimes, but I've accepted it. I had a great time with them while they were still alive."

I nodded and smiled a bit. "Why do I get the feeling you were a little trouble maker when you were younger?" I asked slyly. Eric gave a tiny embarrassed smile and looked away. I gasped and leaned forward, tugging one of the red stripped bangs so he would look back at me. A part of me was very pleased and elated when Eric grinned at my casual treatment and reached over to tug my own black bangs. "You closet prankster! Tell me!"

"Oh, I wasn't a prankster," Eric started before Gabriel came up behind him and slid a hand over his friend's mouth, smirking at me.

"Don't believe him, Alex. He's an annoying pranking shit when he gets in a mood," he confided in me before hissing and pulling his hand away from a smug Eric. "Did you just bite me?" he demanded, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"What? You only let Sebastian bite you?"

"I'll show you bite, you teasing piece of—"

"Jazz! Get your hand out of the—! I'll kill you! Get back here!" I turned my head and watched as Sebastian chased a laughing Jazz out of the kitchen, who had apparently snatched a bit of cookie dough from the bowl Sebastian was saving for dessert.

I laughed as I watched the four dissolved into playful fighting and wrestling. My stomach was aching and tears were beginning to fall from my eyes when an arm snaked around my neck and I suddenly found myself being noogied. "What the hell?" I cried, trying to catch my breath. "Who still gives noogies anymore?"

"I do, brat," Gabe rumbled before he twisted and moved to tickling and poking my side. "Gotta problem with that?"

I yelped and fell out of my chair to try and get away from the attack. "Oh my god! S-Stop! Please st-stop!"

Gabriel followed me down to the floor, grin unmerciful. "What's that? I can't understand you. Speak up, kid!"

I gasped and tried to curl up, finding myself getting dizzy from the lack of air from all the laughing. When the words failed to come out coherently and I was seriously getting dizzy and gasping more than I was laughing, I braced my foot against Gabe's chest and heaved, pushing him up and over me. The surprised look on his normally grumpy face brought another round of laughter to me as I was literally rolling on the ground, holding my aching side. "T-The look on your face!" I gasped. "P-Priceless. Ah, shit. My sides!"

Gabriel got a predatory grin as he slowly lumbered to his feet. "Brat's got moves," he rumbled before waving me to stand up. "Come on, kid. Let's see what you can do."

I blew out a quick breath, face hurting from my smile. "Gimme a second," I wheezed as I got my feet under me. "I'd think you sabotaged my chances before we even started," I teased, finally getting my breathing back.

"Excuses," Gabe shot back, waving at me impatiently as he dropped into a stance. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Eric and Jazz sitting out of the way while Seb went back into the kitchen. "Come on then."

I took one last calming breath, shifting my feet into my familiar stance. Apparently, Gabe wanted an actual spar if his defensive stance was anything to go by. Well, I could do that. It's been a while since I've sparred with someone who could give me a run for my money. And I had no doubt Gabe could challenge me if not totally hand my ass to me. But finding out if he could kick my ass would be the best part. Shaking out my hands to stop their trembling, I froze for a single moment in a stance before rushing forward, sweeping my leg high and towards Gabe's head. I had three different black belts, each belonging to a different fighting technique. For now, I would stick to the one that gave me the best range to see how Gabe would react. It was also the fighting style that let me have the greatest control over how much force I put behind my attack.

I wasn't all that surprised when Gabe brought up a forearm to block my kick and I was about to drop my foot and try something else when he grabbed my shin. That was a surprise. Gabe grinned as he tightened his hold and started to pull, no doubt trying to ruin my balance and send me to the ground where he could pin me. My eyes narrowed as I changed tactics.

Instead of fighting the pull, I went with it and up, bouncing lightly off my stabilizing foot. I was a bit sloppy in turning and wrapping my free leg around Gabe's neck since he was so tall, but I managed to get the back of my knee pressed firmly to the front of Gabe's throat. Despite being surprised by my move, Gabe didn't release my shin like I hoped, leaving me in the splits, held in the air. Using one hand, I reached behind Gabe's head and grabbed my foot, squeezing harder on Gabe's throat while my other hand went to his shoulder, hoping to find a nerve that would get him to let my shin go.

Gabe growled, realizing I had gotten a good hold on him, before dropping forward and rolling me into the ground. I hissed as my legs were bent at a weird angle but released my choke hold to roll out from under Gabe before he could crush and pin me. I knew the second I was caught on the ground I was done. Mr. Mountain had the weight and the strength the keep me down no matter how I struggled, so I needed to keep up and away in order to win this. If I could win this.

I bounced back to my feet, resting perfectly on the balls of my feet so I was prepared to move if I needed. The veteran then decided to check my defensive skills since he rushed me this time, throwing a punch at my stomach. I knew when I blocked it with a downward slam of my palms that he was holding back his strength and I didn't bother getting insulted by it. This man could seriously hurt me if he decided to do so.

We traded punches and blocks with me slowly walking backward, retreating. My mind was scrambling to figure out just what exactly I was walking blindly towards when my lower back hit the back of the sofa. The shock and dismay I felt must have showed on my face because Gabe suddenly looked very smug as his hands came up to push me over the couch. I'll admit the yelp that left my throat as I forced myself to go boneless and drop before scrambling between Gabe's leg did sound girly, but kicking Gabe in the rear to off balance him was well worth it.

"Little shit!" Gabe cursed as I laughed hysterically, rolling backwards and over my head to my feet.

"Nice ass, Gabe!" I shot back before deciding to do something completely insane and stupid and rushing forward. Gabe's hands were coming up to deflect and block me, depending on what I did, but I don't think he was expecting me to flip into a handstand just milliseconds before I would've run full tilt into him. Blindly, I opened my legs and latched on to the first things they hit, which was Gabe's neck thankfully. I locked my ankles round his head, ignoring the fact that my crotch was in his face for a moment. His hands came up and grabbed tightly on to my side and back, but I quickly unlatched one leg and flipped my chest up and under his right arm, hands scrabbling for the flailing left arm that was trying to get my leg off of his neck.

My unlocked leg came down and wrapped around Gabe's right leg just as I managed to grab on to Gabe's wrist and pull his arm straight, struggling against his massive strength to twist it and hold it back behind him at a painful angle while I used my strength to bring my legs together, forcing his head down towards his legs and twisting his spine in an uncomfortable way. I groaned as Ironhide fought me the entire way, struggling to keep from being bent over in a position where he had no leverage and to free his painfully twisted arm. Vaguely, I could hear Jazz shouting and cursing, but I squeezed my eyes shut and used every single muscle in my body to force Gabe down to my will.

Everything was still for a moment, neither Gabe nor I making any headway, until suddenly my world spun and something landed on my chest and I couldn't breathe. I gasped, dropping all of my holds, eyes bugging as I struggled to make sense of the swirling colors around me as I felt myself being turned over and my arms being yanked behind my back by a steely grip.

I knew I was done and didn't fight it, just pressing my face into the carpet and struggling to get the air that I swear was right in front of me. My head spun and I began to panic as my body refused to take in any air. Kicking and fighting feebly at the hold Gabe had me in, tapping his arm with a twisted hand to let him know I was done, I choked and gagged, trying to remind my body how to breathe.

Voices rose and my arms were free, I was turned onto my back once more and my hand flew to my chest only to find another hand was already there, rubbing circles as a litany of soft words were whispered in my ear. My vision was just beginning to tunnel when the hand on my chest pressed firmly and strongly on my sternum, forcing my diaphragm to move.

And air rushed into my lungs.

I gasped and coughed, head as high as the stars as oxygen reached my brain once more and I could hear the voices being spoken around me. "Alex, are you alright? Are you hurt?"

The blur of colors finally made sense and I saw Eric first, leaning over me with a very concerned look on his face and I absently noted that it was his hand on my chest. While Eric was on my right Jazz was on my left, equally worried but looking relieved when he saw me looking back and breathing easier. I nodded jerkily as I realized what had happened. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Just forgot to breathe there for a minute."

I became aware of a raised voice as I sat up, letting Eric hold a hand to my back. Gabriel stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets and shoulders slumped as Seb ripped him a new one, yelling at him for not being careful and that I was breakable. "It was an accident," I cut in quickly, gaining my feet with only a small stumble. "It's been a while since I've had the wind knocked out of me. I'm fine, Seb."

"He could've crushed you!" he retorted, anger blazing in his green eyes, being wild and uncontrolled for the first time since I've met him.

I shook my head and stood straighter, recovering the last bit of my strength. "Gabe's too careful to do that. He'd never really hurt me."

Seb's angry look dropped and it was replaced by a weary are-you-kidding-me one. "Oh, you're just like the others, aren't you? A glutton for injuries and happy to hurt yourself. Yes, I see how this is going to go. Let me tell you this now: I do not tolerate idiots. If you get hurt doing something stupid then don't expect any help from me."

I nodded quickly. "Got it, Doc."

The blond man bopped me on the head. "Don't get cheeky, kid," he muttered as he turned back to the kitchen.

I turned to Gabe, who hadn't moved a single muscle. I poked him, leaning down to try and catch his eyes. "Gabe?" No response. "Gaaabbbbbeeee?" Still nothing. Huffing, I walked a few paces behind Gabe before suddenly running and jumping on his back. "Gabe!"

The huge man stumbled a step and straightened, looking back at me incredulously. "What are you doing, brat?" I heard Jazz mumbled something about needing a camera and so did Gabriel if the glare he sent in the short man's direction was anything to go by.

I grinned and rested my chin on his shoulder, adjusting my hold on him. "If you're feeling guilty then do I get a piggyback ride?"

"Not on your life," he growled, though I noticed he did nothing to shake me off nor did he do anything to keep me there. That's fine. I could hold myself up fine.

I pouted and whined, giving him my best puppy dog eyes. "But, Gabe… My legs are broken. I can't walk."

Gabe rolled his eyes and looked to Eric, who was already approaching. I felt warm hands touch my back. "Enough with bothering Gabe, Alex. I'll take you to the kitchen."

"Yeah!" I unceremoniously let go of Mr. Mountain and dropped the short distance into Eric's arms. "Is dinner almost done?" I asked innocently as I twined my arms around Eric's neck and kicked my legs as he effortlessly carried me into the kitchen and set me in my chair at the table.

"Almost!" Seb called, hearing me.

"Thank you," I told Eric, very pleased and happy that I got to snuggle with him even if it was for a handful of seconds.

"You're welcome. That was some interesting fighting. I saw taekwondo, judo, and karate in all of that."

I whistled, watching as the man gracefully sat next to me. "You've got a good eye. Do you fight?"

"We all do, brat," Gabriel rumbled as he entered the kitchen, mostly out of his guilty funk. "Even Sebastian though he doesn't spar much."

Dark arms suddenly wrapped around my shoulders and Jazz pressed his chin to my shoulder. "That was really impressive, Alex. Where'd you learn that hold you had ol' Gabe here in?"

A blush touched my cheeks at the compliments all around. "I saw it on YouTube once. My…former friends showed me this one video of a chick from WWE doing a submission hold called the Black Widow. That's what I did. Never tried it before. Glad it worked."

"Is there anything you aren't good at?" Sebastian demanded hotly as he came over to the table carrying a steaming bowl of spaghetti.

"Sitting still," I answered immediately. "Watching my mouth."

Laughs went up around the table and Eric grinned at me. "I think you'll find that we all have that problem here."

I shared the grin before looking pleadingly at Gabriel. "You still haven't told me how you got out of the hold," I prompted in a begging voice.

Gabe snorted and blew a strand of orange hair off of his forehead. "Begging doesn't work on me, kid."

"But he'll tell you anyway," Jazz stage-whispered to me before leaving to help Seb bring the rest of the food and effectively escaping any of Gabriel's retaliation.

I waited patiently, just staring at the lumbering giant until he sighed and gave in. "I rolled," he admitted. "Your chest was by my shoulder, so I just tipped sideways and used my weight to stun you. It worked, just a little too well."

"Huh." My mind worked out to imagine the situation and how it played out. It was easy to see that what Gabe did was a viable solution. I was working on possible solutions to keep that from happening again when a plate was put in front of me.

Seb glowered down at me half-heartedly. "No mentioning or thinking about fighting at the table," he chided before moving on.

Jazz sat on the other side of me, motioning me to get the spaghetti before him. "So how do you keep so limber, Alex? You seem to depend on your flexibility quite a bit." When Sebastian growled and glared at him the dark man held up his hands in surrender. "Hey! We weren't talking about the fight at all. I was just simply asking a question and making an observation." Seb didn't look pleased, but didn't say another word. Jazz then leaned over and whispered out of the corner of his mouth, "Though it was totally hot seeing you so stretched out and wrapped around Gabe just to get him on his knees." A blush instantly seared my face and Jazz yelped when a fork hit him in the head. Seb then lit into the man about how I was a minor and that Jazz knew the rules at his table. Jazz retorted that I could take care of myself and that rules were meant to be broken.

A tap on my hand brought my attention to Eric. He leaned in close and I met him halfway, telling myself that my blush was still from Jazz's shameless comment even as Eric's hair tickled my cheek. "You did well. I haven't seen Gabe struggle like that in a while, but, just so you know, Gabe isn't going to fall for the same thing twice. He was caught by surprise by your style today, but now he knows what to expect."

I nodded and grinned excitedly at Eric. "That just makes it more exciting!" I whispered and Eric threw back his head laughing, patting me on the shoulder.

Then Seb snapped at us to start eating or he wasn't going to let us have any cookies for dessert. I don't think the threat of withholding dessert stops when you reach adulthood because we all shut up and ate our food. I may not have eaten much, Eric even commented on it, but I couldn't remember the last time I've been full on such delicious food.

Now, I may be enjoying and even loving the fact that I had four new friends, but I wasn't blind or stupid…Okay maybe I was paranoid and wary, but that doesn't mean there might not actually be something to my suspicions.

Don't get me wrong; I really was on cloud nine with the fact that I had new friends. Seb was still patient in walking me through how to do certain things with cars and quick to anger if I did something stupid, but he was warmer and closer to me than when we first met. He would cuff me lightly on the head if I was cursing, telling me that it only degraded my image to people, or pat me on the back when he came to see how I was doing on a car. It was a little early to tell, only being a month and a half since I met everyone, but I'd spent practically every free moment I had in the company of those four men and I think I was able to judge where things were going. And I think Seb and I would be really great friends.

Gabe had opened up a whole bunch. He was still gruff and rough around the edges, but he let me help him now on cars and even took me into the basement of Eric's home, which they converted to a workout room, and taught me a few new moves and even how to better the Black Widow. He was such a teddy bear, but I would never tell that to the man's face. To the others, though, I would tell them as much as I could. And laugh at their reactions.

Jazz was a fun and energetic friend to have around. I have this feeling that if I ever really wanted to party I would go to Jazz first. We had a few more impromptu dances like the first whenever he dropped by about once or twice a week and it was no less exhilarating. If anything, it got more exciting as I no longer needed Jazz to cover my eyes and we would dance facing each other so I could see what he was doing and get ideas for new moves off of him. One time, though, he scared the ever living crap out of me.

I was in the garage as the guys went and talked about something—they have a lot of those talks where they get really serious and tell me to watch the shop—and someone calls for my attention. I look up and there's a cop standing not three feet from me. My shouted cursing brought the others down faster than I could believe from upstairs, the one place I was prohibited from going to, and Jazz happily greeted the police officer as Chase "Prowl" Hunter.

They were partners on patrol and the tall wiry man with the top of his hair being golden blond and the bottom half being regular brown had the fine regal features of someone I expected to come from fine breeding and the way he was acting all formal and such I almost believed that as I watched him from the corner of the shop I was sulking in.

Chase stuck around a bit, waiting for Jazz to come back down so they could go hangout or something. He apologized for startling me and I let it go, telling him I hated getting scared and he then told me that Jazz called him Prowl and Prowler for a reason. We then got onto the topic of Jazz, which Chase readily talked about. I could see from the way he acted and spoke about Jazz that Chase saw my friend as more than a coworker and friend. And when Jazz came down I saw the way he cuddled up to Chase and dragged him away I knew the feeling was mutual between the two. But Jazz was married and somehow the two seemed oblivious to each other's feelings. Strange.

And the last of the four—possibly five with Chase if he comes around a bit more—was Eric. Dear God, I had no idea what was going on. I wasn't in denial about my feelings for that man. He was hot. He was kind. He was smart. He was funny. He was perfect. Well, sort of. He had his moments. All the guys could go on and on about how Eric wasn't awake in the morning until after his eighth cup of straight black coffee and I'd seen Eric lose his temper once.

Holy cow that had been scary.

It had been a really, _really_ long week for everyone and Eric was down to his last strand of patience when a customer came in and snootily demanded a refund because the job we had done on it didn't work and her car had broken down again. And Eric snapped. He didn't blow up like I'd seen Gabe do, but he just went subzero cold. Gabe and Seb had been struggling to pull the man out of the room as he hissed and spat about where the woman could stick her demand and how she really was spawned instead of born. I'd tried to do damage control, saying that I would take a look at her car for free and fix it up for free. She just shakily nodded her head. Turned out our seal on a line had been sabotaged, but I didn't say anything and she never came back. I didn't see Eric again until the next day.

And despite all that Eric was still a warm and caring person. He always asked me how I was doing and we would always go on these long talks that never seemed to end. He invited me over to his house a few more times for dinner and soon it became a regular thing for me to come by at least once a week. Of course, if he stopped personally asking me to come over I'd stop, but that doesn't mean I don't see the trust and happiness he has in me each time we see each other. And we couldn't seem to find anything to protest about each other's company. Sometimes, when I was whiny he would gently chide me and I would shake it off or when he was being doom and gloom I would poke him a few times, crack a joke, and he'd come back to me. We just…fed off each other. I've never been this happy in my entire life.

But, despite how great that all sounds, I knew something was up. There was something else going on between the four of them that went beyond coworkers and roommates. I didn't think they were all sleeping with each other because they didn't give off the same vibe as Seb and Gabe, and don't judge me for jumping to that conclusion. They're all incredibly hot and pretty much all of them are gay—I still didn't know if Eric was gay or even bi. Anyway, I could just…feel something among the looks they threw each other and the silent conversations. And when I eluded a few times to what it was I was picking up I was always brushed off and directed to another conversation. Something bound them together tighter than anything I could possibly imagine and it hurt sometimes to know I wasn't included, but I accepted my lot and moved on.

That didn't bother me too much. It was just a part of their ties to one another and I resigned myself to never knowing. But something that did bother me was my chest-heat. It was getting worse. It was actually starting to hurt now and come on unexpectedly and in greater frequency. It hit me the most when I was in the garage and I would have to stop and take a few deep breaths, massaging my chest, before continuing.

The guys noticed of course. They asked me what was wrong, and I was honest, telling them that my chest burned from time to time. And they would just share this look. There was knowledge in their eyes as I said these words before they covered it up by telling me they hoped it went away. A part of me wanted to demand what they knew because this was happening to me and I certainly had no clue what was going on. Heat in my chest was too simple of a symptom for me to locate a cause whenever I tried searching it up on the internet. But another part of me was slightly hurt that they didn't trust me to tell me what they knew. It hurt a little bit. Only a little bit.

I shook my head and ran a hand through my hair, tugging at my black bangs, which were drooping for once. I swear the things reacted to my emotions. "What are you thinking?" I muttered to myself as I walked the streets, heading home after my shift at Dan's. "Nothing. That's what. Everyone deserves their secrets and you have no right to ask for them."

But weren't we friends?

A frown tugged at my lips as I stuffed my hands back in my pockets. I did think that if I ever needed help in the middle of the night they would be there, but there was still that tiny doubt in my heart until I actually put them to the test. Hopefully, I never would have to. But the point was that if they needed help from me I would be there. No hesitation. So I considered them my friends and I was 95% sure they considered me a friend.

The silence of the night was suddenly broken, by a somewhat familiar sound. It took a moment to place that could-be-metal-but-didn't-really-sound-like-it chattering sound as the same I'd heard that night I'd first talked to Eric outside of Dan's. I stopped mid-step when an inhuman shriek and scream accompanied the sound and my chest flared white hot in pain and heat, but I ignored it as I turned on heel and headed for the alley where the sounds were coming from. As I got closer I could hear this rhythmic hiss-pop sound as well as multiple things shattering and a voice. A very familiar voice.

I was about to round the corner, heart hammering at what I might find, when everything suddenly died down to silence. My feet skid around the corner as I come to a stop and I just stare at the scene before me. There are these…glass shards carpeting the ground. Maybe they were the shattering sound I heard? But there aren't any windows or trashcans around that the glass could've come from. A struggling door light was the only thing I could see by, and it just barely let me see these strange, circular scorch marks on the walls and ground.

I crouched down and carefully picked up one of the glass shards, turning it over and holding it up to the light. My chest-heat rose quickly to a new level of pain at the contact and I was forced to drop the shard, stumbling back. I watched as the glass…no, crystal glowed briefly before dissolving into a cloud of eerie smoke along with the rest of the shards. My mind worked furiously to figure out what I'd just seen until my chest hurt once more. Grabbing the shirt over my sternum, I turned and left the alley, jogging the rest of the way home, missing the red and blue eyes that watched me from the shadows.

I didn't know if I was going crazy, but I could've sworn I heard Eric's voice shouting and yelling just before everything went silent.

Maybe I'm just tired.

The next day I show up at the shop Eric has his forearm wrapped up and bandaged. When I ask, he said he had an accident with the welder. Later, when I go to grab the power driller, which was sitting next to the welder, I saw the line of glue on the handle of the welder that stuck the tool to the wall was still there from when Jazz put it there a few days ago as a prank. The welder hadn't been picked up since then. So how did Eric hurt himself?

I don't say anything, though I turn it over and over in my head as my mood drops down another notch. What was with the strangeness lately?

I find it ironic that Prowl is one of my favorite Autobots in the whole world but I only give him a halfass introduction. Maybe I'll post a oneshot about Alex and Chase meeting. Don't worry. He comes into play later in the story. I swear he's the only sane one of this group. Poor Prowl.

But woo! Autobots are done and introduced! Check out my profile for pictures on Prowl and what he looks like and for the video on what the Black Widow looks like. My youngest sister is frickin' obsessed with WWE and the divas, so I have basic knowledge of the fighters and signature moves. AJ Lee and her Black Widow submission hold caught my attention. And it is escapable. I'll leave the video of one diva escaping the black widow so you can get an idea on how Gabe escaped.

(^U^;) Shameless Jazz is shameless. And I love the Jazz/Prowl pairing so you can expect to see more of them.

And Bee is catching on to the other guys. In the next chapter or two, depending on how generous I am on the next chapter's length, we'll finally begin to see what makes this group…strange.

I'd also like to remind you guys that I love beating on Bumblebee. I don't know why, but I just do. And in the next chapter I'm downright sadistic. Sorry. I love Bee to death, literally. So just be warned that the next chapter gets really graphic.


	7. Chapter 7

_**CHAPTER WARNINGS: ATTEMPTED RAPE, VULGAR LANGUAGE, CURSING.**_

I told you guys I liked beating on Bee well here it is. I have a method to my cruelty, don't worry. This isn't all for naught.

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU and Characters © sleepyoldvamp on DeviantArt

Chasing the Flame

It was another late night when I got home. I sighed as I saw the number of beer cans littering the ground and any available surface. Looks like my father had been home recently. Leaning down, I picked up the stack of mail that had been dropped through the slot in the door and frowned as I saw all of the overdue notices on the bills. Great. Oh. Was that an eviction notice? Yes. Yes, it was. Joyous.

I trudged through the trash on the floor, dropping my stuff off in my room, before heading to the kitchen. Digging into my pocket, I flipped out a few twenties and pinned them to the fridge for my father to find and hopefully put towards the bills. It was stupid to hope, but I felt horribly guilty even at the thought of abandoning my parents to waste away and soon be kicked out on the street. This was a tiny superficial thing I could do to help. Until then, I didn't think I would be able to get to sleep anytime soon, so I might as well clean up.

Grabbing an empty trash bag, I began my route around the house, picking up cold and empty beer cans and bottles, tossing them into the bag to be recycled and earn a couple of bucks off of them. At least they wouldn't be a total waste. I was in the living room, dragging out trash from under the worn and torn couch, when I heard the door creak open and slam shut.

Dread sank heavily in my stomach as I straightened up in time to see my father stalk into the room with a beer in hand, carrying with him the strong smell of alcohol and drugs. Black beady eyes immediately zoomed in on me. "Where have you been?" the old drunk demanded.

"Here," I answered honestly, shaking the garbage bag in my hand so he could maybe connect the dots. Or not.

"Don't lie to me, boy," my father growled, straightening to his six foot height. It would've impressed me more if he didn't have that slightly glazed look in his eyes. "You aren't ever here until eleven. Where were you?"

I heaved a sigh. My fight senses were tingling, I thought sarcastically while walking to the kitchen to tie up the bag and leave it to be taken out. "I was working at a diner. I've had a job for almost two months now."

"Bullshit." A rough hand clumsily landed on my shoulder and it was only because I let him that my father was able to turn me around to face him. "You're nothing but a lazy bum," the man slurred, eyes squinted as if to see me better. "Who the hell in their right mind would take you?" I was about to snap at him that he was talking about himself when a light blinked on in his eyes. "Unless they are taking you," he murmured, leaning back and looking me over with a gleam in his eye that I didn't like. "Ugly as fuck, but if someone's desperate enough I guess they'll pay. How much do you charge, huh?"

I spluttered, heat rising to my cheeks. "Charge? What are you talking about? Do you think I'm a prostitute?" I groaned and rolled my eyes, knocking the hand off my shoulder. "You need to sleep this off, old man. You're not even thinking in a crooked line." The next thing I know my cheek is hurting like the devil and I'm looking up at the ceiling with my back on the floor.

"Don't get smart with me, bitch," my father growled, dropping heavily on my waist in a straddle, his free hand grabbing my jaw so I couldn't look away from him. Not that he had to. I was happy to glare at him and plot my revenge on the old geez. "How much do you charge?" he repeated. "How do you like to take your customers?" I knew that look, that disgusting lust in his black soulless eyes as he ground his pelvis against mine. To my horror, I could actually feel something getting hard in his pants.

"You sick fucker, let me—" I spat and choked as my father suddenly turned his beer over, splashing its full contents all over my face in a slow, steady, and sadistic stream, following my face no matter how I tried to turn and gasp for air. Fear begins to cloud my mind as the beer can is tossed away and I gasp for air, head spinning and lungs aching.

I blink the amber liquid from my stinging eyes in time to see my father sneer at me, "You like it rough, don't you? When your customers just shove you to the ground and give it to you right up your ass." His meaty hands came down and clamped around my throat in a painful vice. My eyes bulge in fear as my air is cut off once more. My hands scramble to get a grip and make him let me go, but my hands are too slippery from the beer and his fat ass is pinning my flailing legs. Shit, shit, shit. I couldn't get him off! I couldn't breathe!

"Tell me, you stupid bitch. Do you take it like your mother? Begging for the next push like a bitch in heat? Did you spread your legs for anyone who walked up to you? Huh?! Tell me!" Stars swam in my vision as he banged my head against the ground one, two, three times as hard as he could.

My hands reached desperately for my father's face, hoping to scratch, claw, _dosomething!_. But he was just out of my reach, just far enough away to keep me from _fightingkillinghowdareyoutrythis_. My mind was fogging up like the bathroom mirror from the lack of oxygen, but I was still aware enough to feel one hand release my throat, keeping the other one there and choking me, and shove up my shirt, groping my stomach and chest. "You like it when they hurt you, don't you?" my father hissed, leaning down to leer right in my face, grinding his growing erection tighter against my crotch. "You like it when they just pin you and shove right into you."

My eyes widened and tears started fall from the corners of my eyes when I felt a grimy hand worm its way under the waistband of my pants, digging in his blunt nails painfully until he took me in hand and squeezed. The silent scream that escaped me was nearly the last thing that sent me into oblivion when I realized that he had to lift himself in order to grab me like that. My legs were free.

It was hazy, how exactly I twisted and kicked and shoved, but finally that clamp on my throat was gone and I could _breathe_. It was instinct alone that had me trying to get to my feet as coughs racked my body. I failed several times, before using the wall like a crutch and shimmying my way up, the world dipping and spinning wildly. A cry of shock and fear left me when a bottle shattered right in front of my face, raining glass on me and cutting into my cheek.

Then that monster was back, shoving me bodily against the wall, hands back around my throat and trying to kill me. Tears fell freely from my eyes as I fought, kicking and lashing out as hard as I could, but my limbs felt heavier than they ever had before, making them near impossible to move. My father roared in my face. "You stupid cunt! You don't hit me. I'll kill you. I'll make you suffer!" My chest heaved with stress as hands fought to slide my pants downs, being sure to scratch as hard as he could, gripping my hips with bruising force when my kicking got in his way. "I'm going to take you right here against the wall like the whore you are. And you're going to enjoy it. You're going to scream for more and I'll give it to you until you can't make a single sound."

No. No, no, no, no, NO! This wasn't going to happen. I wasn't going to let a bastard monster to rape me. I wasn't going to let him hurt me. I wasn't just going to stand here and let him do what he wants! Fuck to the no. Stop crying and fight you fucking weakling. Get those fists up and punch him. Kick him in the balls. Beat him down. Rip out his heart! _JUST MOVE!_

Heat flared like agony in my chest, distracting me from everything else and finally giving me that thing to focus and ground myself with. The next thing I know the man that was once my father is on the ground, howling and wailing in pain and I was stumbling out the door.

My head hurt and I couldn't form a single thought, but I knew I just had to get away. I couldn't go back. I wouldn't go back. No, he'd gone too far. He'd…he'd tried to take something that I meant to give to someone I held dear and that was unforgivable. As far as he was concerned, he could go burn in hell. I was fucking done.

I came back to myself when I nearly stumbled into an orange door. An orange door I knew well. Dazed, I looked around and confirmed that I was at Eric's house. Taking deep breaths, I raised a shaking fist and knocked as firmly as I could three times. Relief etched in on my frazzled mind as I stood there waiting for my friends to open the doors and take me in. But no one came. I knocked again, harder and longer in the hopes that maybe they were sleeping and didn't hear me. I watched the door, biting my lip and begging for it to swing open. It never did.

Tears filled my eyes to the brim and I wheezed in half-sobs as I looked to the driveway and didn't see a single car parked. They weren't home. Eric wasn't here. I sobbed horribly, robbing my body of the steady thin breaths I've managed so far, before I forced myself to walk again.

My feet carried me through the dark streets and I hugged my arms to myself, shying away from the gleaming eyes, grasping hands, and grimy smiles that reached from the darkness. No. I wouldn't let them get me. I just needed to focus and find Eric. If he wasn't at home than he was at the shop. He _had_ to be. I didn't let it bother me when I finally limped to the Autoshop and didn't see a single light on. They might be upstairs.

I forced my body to move around the building, going for the backdoor that opened with a long series of numbers but would at least let me in. My hand was reaching for the dark key pad, shaking from stress and relief, when pain exploded in my chest.

I cried out hoarsely as my legs gave out and I curled up on my side, sobbing as pain racked my chest and body. My mouth formed words my abused throat couldn't utter, begging the pain to stop and for someone to help me.

The only thing that showed up was the darkness that finally claimed my entire being and dragged me away from the pain and fear.

"So when are you planning on tell Alex about everything?" Gabe asked nonchalantly.

Eric snorted from where he sat behind the wheel. Gabriel and nonchalance went together as well as a bull and a china shop did. "I'm working on it," the leader replied vaguely. "I'm planning on maybe a month, when we have Memorial Day weekend off."

Jazz leaned forward from where he sat in the backseat. "Alex is a good kid. I have a feeling he'll take to this like a duck to water. Especially if he has you as a _personal_ mentor, Eric. Eh? Eh?"

"You're being ridiculous," Eric muttered, a smile tugging at his lips even as he shied away from Jazz's poking.

"Don't play coy, Prime," Gabriel scolded, giving his best friend an amused look. "You may have been doing this Cybertronian thing longer than all of us, but I've known you for years and this is the first time I've seen you take any interest in anything that's not a car or 'Con. And he is obviously interested in you."

"He's a minor! I'm ten years older than he is." Eric protested before narrowing his eyes at the large man in the passenger seat. "And don't 'Prime' me, Gabriel Steele. I'll kick your ass."

Gabe and Jazz shared a look and a smirk. "That's pretty defensive, Eric," Jazz drawled. "And you've obviously given it some thought." Eric just rolled his eyes and focused back on driving, but the smaller man wasn't done. "Come on, Eric. We're immortals fighting in a secret war. Emphasis on 'immortals' and 'war'. In a few centuries ten years isn't going to be that much of a difference to you and we're fighting fights to the death every single night. You could die tonight and then where'd you be? Frustrated and with a pair of blue balls, that's where."

Eric remained stubbornly silent. Gabe sighed. "Look, Eric. The kid's wings are going to come out soon and, believe me, it's a huge stress reliever knowing someone is there for you no matter what. Seb's emergence would've probably sent him over the edge if I hadn't have been there. The kid's already got a lot on his plate and he's going to be doubting his entire world once he realizes he's not even human and the fact that we've kept this a secret from him since the beginning." The burnet watched his friend sigh and slump, silently agreeing with him. Gabriel went in for the kill with ease. "He's going to need you. The sooner you show him that you aren't leaving the better."

"Fine," Eric groaned. "Fine, fine, fine! You've made your point."

Jazz laughed before patting his leader on the shoulder as he slowed and turned into the back parking lot of the shop. "Good for you, Eric."

The man glanced in the rear view mirror and his eyes danced with amusement as he held his TIC's eyes even through his sunglasses. "The next couple we're pairing up is you and Prowl."

Jazz stiffened, smile dropping. "Don't even kid about that."

"I'm not." Eric turned off the car and slipped out, closing his door. He was about to make a comment on how obvious it was that the two needed each other when his spark detected a Cybertronian presence other than his two comrades and friends with him.

Gabriel stopped and watched as his leader pressed a hand to his chest with a frown. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Eric focused, trying to tug the fluttering sense for more information. Pain and fear hit him like a semi-truck, but he pushed past those to find the core of who was giving off such emotions. He jolted when he found the bubbly and shining being he'd been slowly drawing closer and closer to himself over the weeks. "Alex," he whispered, scanning the surrounding area desperately before sprinting in the direction the almost-spark was pulsing from. He came around the corner to the wall that had the back door and felt his heart and spark stutter to a painful stop.

A painfully familiar form lay crumpled in a heap just by the door, curled up tight in unnatural stillness. "Alex," Eric gasped out as he slid next to the teenaged boy, gently turning the boy onto his back. Anger and horror burned in him when he saw Alex's pale face, blood caking the side of one face and the horrible ring of bruises around his thin neck. Eric's hands came up and gently held the still and cold face of the teen, taking in every detail of the faint pain-pinched expression on the unconscious boy. "Call Ratchet," he growled to his two comrades when he heard them come to a stop behind him. "Jazz, call Prowl. Get both of them here immediately."

He didn't bother to see if they obeyed him; instead, he carefully pushed his arms under the thin boy's knees and shoulders and hefted him up. The unconscious whimper of pain at being moved he drew from the boy nearly brought his flames out, but he forced down his anger and made sure Alex was firmly settled in his arms before walking through the backdoor Jazz was holding open. Eric didn't hesitate to head to the second floor, kicking open the door to one of the large bedrooms that they kept for the sole purpose of healing themselves if they got hurt on one of their nightly patrols.

"Ratchet's on his way now," Ironhide informed his leader, watching as he oh-so-gently put the unconscious teen on the large, plush bed.

"So is Prowl," Jazz added grimly, a dark look on his face. "He's coming prepared to report an assault. I'm going to review the security footage and see if I can't find anything." Optimus nodded tightly, standing back and just looking at the too-still Alex. It sat completely wrong with Optimus to see the normally bright and moving boy so still and pale. So hurt. This time the flames came freely to his hands and they immediately glowed blood red. Ironhide watched from the corner of the room, not at all worried despite the obvious show of Prime's volatile and whipping anger. He would never hurt Alex, but Primus help anyone he might think be responsible for Alex's state.

The minutes ticked by like hours and Prime didn't even flinch when he heard the downstairs door slam open and Ratchet's sprinting feet. The medic skidded into the room, taking in the silent Ironhide, the frozen but fire-red Optimus, and the unconscious Alex in a single blink before moving to the teenager's side. "Ironhide, I'm going to need towels and lukewarm water."

Jazz came back into the room just as Ironhide was leaving. "Don't heal him, Ratch," he commanded, flinching when his leader's dark glare landed on him. "Prowl's going to need picture evidence so we can nail the fucker who did this. Write up a doctor's report while you're waiting." Optimus turned his gaze back to Alex, appeased for the moment that it was for the best to leave Alex like he was.

"Don't tell me how to do my job," the doctor muttered, before digging into the bag he'd brought with him and pulling out a clipboard with the necessary papers. "Prowl," the doctor called, sensing the other's spark as it neared. "Come take your damned pictures and then let me work."

Jazz didn't miss the dark anger and fury that clung to the stoic police officer as he dutifully pulled up the camera hung around his neck, snapping pictures efficiently. "Take off his shirt," the officer ordered tersely.

It took but a moment to rid the teen of the alcohol reeking shirt and the tension in the room shot up. Ratchet and Ironhide cursed vividly as they took in the sight. Prowl and Jazz darkly planned what they were going to do to the man at fault for this. Optimus trembled, flames spreading further up his arms as the flames in his hands sharpened and compressed into razor-sharp blades. Bruises and scratches littered the thin boy's chest, but it was the scratches trailing down underneath the hem of his jeans that had everyone seeing red. The camera went to work and Ratchet professionally stripped the pants off the boy as well, doing a cursory check to see if their fears were correct.

His shoulders sagged in relief when he saw no signs of rape. "He's good," he murmured hoarsely, letting Prowl take pictures while he ordered Ironhide to get some sweats for Alex. It only took a moment to roll him over and reveal the splotching bruises on his back to be catalogued and recorded before they finally let the boy lay still once more.

Optimus turned to Jazz. "Was there anything on the tapes?" he asked quietly, coldly.

"No," the smaller man reported. "We just see him stumbling here before collapsing. I think it might have been his chest that was the last straw."

"I'm going to need a statement from all of you," Prowl said. "And your medical report as soon as you're done, Ratchet."

"I'm working on it," the blond snapped, scribbling furiously on his clipboard, not even looking at the teen since all of the markings on the boy were burned into his memory. Despite his rush to finish his report and get to finally healing the boy he made sure all his letters were clear and easy to read so as not to show his emotional state and so anyone could read it when it was used as evidence in court.

They worked in silence except for Prowl's questions and the short answers he got to write down. It took another endless five minutes before Ratchet tore the papers from his clipboard and wordlessly held them out to Prowl, all of his focus on his patient as he called up his wings.

The room became bathed in the calm and soothing pale green aura as Ratchet's wings appeared as his clothes dissolved in a wave of pale green smoke, leaving him in flowing green robes with white accents. His wings flexed slowly, metallic feathers spreading wide and the white swirling designs along the arms of his wings pulsed brightly before they fluttered and flapped in agitation. "Just relax, Alex," Ratchet murmured soothingly, holding up his hands and allowing them to glow pale green. Without further ado, he pressed his hands to Alex's chest. The rest of the group looked on as the bruises slowly changed colors and faded in size a bit. Scratches scabbed over and flaked off in a matter of seconds. And the pained expression on Alex's face eased into peace.

Optimus' flames died down as he watched Ratchet pull away despite the fact that there were still bruises were still present. "Report," he commanded.

Ratchet sighed and let his wings settle on his back, molting away into shining dust and allowing his robes to fade away and leave him in his normal clothes. "He'll wake up sore, but I doubt we want to deal with his suspicions over how all of his bruises and injuries were healed in a matter of hours. I can only claim to be an amazing doctor to a certain extent." Prime grumbled, but didn't protest any further. The last thing they needed was a stressed and injured Alex and then dump the entire truth of what was happening on the poor boy. That was a recipe for disaster.

"I will remain long enough to get his statement and then return to the police station," Prowl informed his leader.

And so they settled to wait. And wait. And wait. It didn't matter to them that they could hear cars pulling up to the shop to see if they were open and then driving away when they couldn't get in. It didn't matter that the phone rang unanswered. It didn't matter that they were all burning to find out who hurt the youngest and most defenseless of them. They stayed in the quiet room, waiting for any sign of Alex rousing.

After two and a half hours they almost couldn't believe it when Alex groaned and shifted slightly. Optimus was already by his side and running a hand over the teen's forehead and through his hair. "It's alright, Alex," he murmured quietly. "You're safe. We've got you." For a moment, Eric wished he knew Alex's Cybertronian name. It was something they all immediately paid attention to whenever it was uttered and responded to even when unconscious. But Alex's designation wouldn't be known until his wings emerged and he fully awakened his Cybertronian side. Eric sat there, murmuring more soft words as the boy fought his way to the waking world.

It tore at Eric's heart to see the young man that had become so dear to him fight something he couldn't help with. He could only watch as Alex tossed his head slowly, moaning and mumbled incoherently about whatever nightmare he was experiencing, before he finally stilled, took a few deep and steady breaths and fluttered his eyes.

Eric perked up, caressing Alex's uninjured cheek in encouragement. "That's it, Alex. Come on. You're almost there."

The amount of relief he felt when Alex finally peeled open his eyelids, revealing foggy sky blue eyes, was beyond words. He finally knew that Alex was going to be okay.

Chasing the Flame

I was feeling guilty about the late post and the attempted rape scene being only 2,000 words long so I threw in that bonus scene with Eric and the others. With that little bit of information, what do you guys think is going on? I'll neither confirm nor deny anything because I have an information dump chapter in the story, but I'd still like to hear what you guys think.

And so I leave you with a depressing tone of the story. Sorry, but I'll tell you guys now I love my cliffhangers. They're such nice chapter ending points. Nut much to say other than review and tell me what you think!


	8. Chapter 8

So I got back late from my trip yesterday and didn't have the energy to edit and post the chapter. Sorry. Here it is!

CHAPTER WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF DRUG ABUSE AND SLIGHT YAOI AND A LOT OF OGLING

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DeviantArt

I breathed softly as I opened my eyes. I was struck with a sense of déjà vu when I woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling as well as Eric leaning over me, relief shining brightly in his sea blue eyes. Still gathering my thoughts, I shifted to see how my body was doing. I was a bit surprised to find I didn't hurt that bad and the fact that my chest was cold. A glance down confirmed I was indeed without a shirt. Again.

I snorted and smiled a bit at Eric. "Why is it that every time I pass out I wake up with you and without a shirt?" I said, the words coming out hoarse but clear. Eric shared my smile and I heard relieved laughter coming from behind my friend. I craned my head and Eric shifted obligingly, allowing me to see Gabriel, Sebastian, Jazz, and Prowl all looking very relieved and happy.

"It's good to see you awake, Alex," Eric murmured, running a hand over my forehead and into my hair, lightly playing with my black bangs. "You scared us."

I huffed, my smile becoming strained. "I'm pretty sure I was scared shitless last night anyway, so it's not like I was trying."

"You want to tell us what happened?" Prowl asked, coming forward with a notepad, ready to take my statement I bet.

It was _so_ on the tip of my tongue to just tell everything, but if I reported that man then he'd be arrested, the official people would say my mother is unfit to care for me and then remove me from my home, taking me away from my school and friends. Uh, no. I really wanted that monster to rot in hell, but not if he dragged me down with him. I flicked my eyes away from Erin and down, lifting my hand and absently looking it over. "I don't know. Some guys jumped me last night while I was walking home from work. I didn't see their face," I lied easily and boy did it taste bitter.

I didn't look up in the ensuing silence to see their expressions, but I just knew I was caught. Gabriel huffed. "Kid, we've all seen you fight. If anyone tried to jump you, you would've kicked their asses."

My face heated up. "They caught me by surprise," I muttered weakly, hoping they would take a hint and let me go with this story.

Hands reached over and gently turned my face to the side so I was looking back at Eric and his understanding eyes. He was angry, I could see that burning fire that blazed far in the depths and I could feel it in the slight tension in his kind hands, but I also saw that he knew who had hurt me. He knew. "Alex," Eric murmured, rubbing his thumb across my cheek as he held my eyes and refused to release my gaze. "Whoever you are trying to protect, he's not worth it. Nobody who does this to anyone deserves your loyalty and devotion. No, no. Please look at me." It was with infinite patience that Eric turned my face back to him when I wanted to look away. "You know this, Alex. He hurt you and we can lock him away for a long, long time. He'd never hurt anyone ever again. You don't have to protect him."

Tears burned in my eyes as I looked down, caught in a decision I knew would change my life forever. "I'm not protecting anyone," I admitted honestly in a rough voice. "I'm protecting myself." Damn it. I refused to cry. I was fine now. Really. Eric's look asked me to continue and my tired mind spun for how to work this out in my favor. My eyes moved to Prowl. "Off the record," I started and I sagged in relief when he dutifully unclicked his pen and put away his notebook. "It was my…_father_. Trust me, I want him arrested just as bad as you do, but if they arrest him they'll find out my mother isn't a fit parent and CPS will get involved because I was hurt and remove me from the house and put me in some foster home. I don't want to move. I like it here, Eric." I met his eyes searchingly, begging him to understand my motivation. "Please don't make me do this."

Eric's lips pressed in a thin line and Gabriel cursed softly. But Prowl looked downright cheery for his usual stoic manner. "We can exchange guardianship," he suddenly said and all eyes swung to him. "It's normally done when parents find they can't care for an infant, so they'll sign over all rights of guardianship to another parent, but there's nothing saying that the same can't be done for 17-year-olds."

I frowned. "You'd have to convince my parents to actually sign the papers," I pointed out.

Jazz snorted and jabbed a thumb at Gabriel. "I don't think we'd have any problem. A little under the table coercion and we could have your guardianship transferred over to one of us before we even arrest the bastard."

Prowl nodded. "Yes. And I would have to come back in a week if your family doctor, Sebastian Lakare, claimed that you weren't fit to give a police statement due to the fact that you suffered a concussion, which he mentioned in his medical report."

"Get the papers signed and made official before slamming the cuffs on the fucker." Jazz chuckled and rubbed his hands together in sadistic pleasure before stopping and looking at me. "If that's okay with you, Alex. None of this happens without your say so."

I blinked and gaped at the room full of men. "You guys would really do that for me. All of that? Risking your jobs and legally taking me in?"

"Why wouldn't we?" Sebastian demanded, crossing his arms. "We look after our own."

"No one beats any of us up and gets away with their limbs still attached," Gabriel added, cracking his knuckles dramatically.

Eric started rubbing my cheek again, bringing my attention back to him. "We're family, Alex," he said simply and I sucked in a ragged breath at that one word, tears burning my eyes again.

I nodded frantically, rubbing my eyes. "Yeah. Yes. Do it. All of it. Please."

"Don't worry about anything, kid," Gabriel rumbled deeply coming up by Eric to ruffle my hair. "We'll take care of everything. You just focus on getting better."

I nodded silently, still fighting the urge to burst into tears. Then my chest flared up in agony and so did a spot in the middle of my back, just below my shoulder blades. I gasped, twisting and curling up, hissing as I tried to rub away the pain. A warm hand touched my bare back after a moment and soothingly rubbed the spot that hurt. I must've pulled a muscle or bruised something for Eric to know exactly where I was hurting, but I melted nonetheless into the rub, sighing in relief. And that turned into a yawn after a long moment.

"Go to sleep, Alex," Eric ordered softly, still rubbing my back even now that the pain had faded, though the chest-heat stayed hot and pulsing strongly under my ribs.

"Thank you," I whispered before grabbing a pillow and hugging it to my chest, burying my face in its cool, soft goodness, letting myself be lulled back into sleep.

It was a restless sleep.

I kept having nightmares about him. His hands around my throat, grinding against me, telling me exactly what he was going to do and then doing it. I always woke up gasping, sitting up while bringing my knees to my chest and slapping away any hands that were touching me before realizing I was fine. They didn't ask me what I saw, but listened when I told them anyway.

Around the third time I woke up, I decided to shower, sick of the beer in my hair and his touch on my body. It felt so good to scrub every inch of my body and get rid of any memory of his scratching, grabbing hands. I actually slept for a solid six hours after that before I was being nudged awake.

"Sorry, kid," Jazz murmured, flicking on the bedside lamp. "But I need you to sign this paper, saying that you accept me as your legal guardian."

I blinked hard, clearing my throat as I took the offered paper from him. "You'll be my guardian?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'm the only one of the bunch that looks the best. Seb and Gabe have records of aggression and mental instability from years ago and I beat out Eric 'cause I'm a cop, I'm married, and I have a kid. You'll have to come over and meet them some time. I think you and Markus will love each other."

I squinted as I carefully read each tiny word of the document, making sure I wasn't signing away my soul or anything. "You and Chase need to hook up," I muttered and got a flick in the head for my trouble. I snickered and held my hand out for a pen, satisfied with the paper. "I'd like to meet your kid. I'm sure he's an adorable mini-you."

Jazz laughed heartily. "Oh, you have no idea. Listen, Seb sent me up with some soup and told me to make sure you ate it. Think you can stomach it?"

I handed back the paper after signing a sloppy signature. "Sure," I reply, sitting up and happy that I wasn't too sore. Jazz turned and pressed a warm bowl into my hands. The smell was heavenly and made my stomach rumble, making Jazz chuckle.

"Seb's chicken noodle soup can make even the sickest flu victim want to eat his soup," he remarked, watching as I dug in, practically inhaling the liquid. "Seb says your underweight," he suddenly says. I look up and meet his eyes, unsurprised. "Perhaps even malnourished if he can get you to the hospital and do a proper checkup." I wait patiently, knowing what he was leading up to, but that didn't stop me from enjoying my food. "You didn't eat a lot when you were home, did you?"

"No," I answered easily. "Father's only source of income was gambling and mother couldn't find any work because she was so sick. Any money made instantly went to the bills, so no. I didn't eat most of the time."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

I shrugged. "I'm used to it. I don't think I can stomach more than one-and-a-half of one of Seb's meals anyway. Besides, I wasn't going to go begging for food. I have my pride what little left of it there is."

Jazz's sigh was audible, as well as him shifting his weight before running a hand through my hair. I think everyone seemed to like doing that. Not that I minded. It felt nice. But if they tried it in public I was going to snap. And if they didn't let me return the favor they had another thing coming. "From now on you tell us whenever you feel hungry, sick, hurt, sad, angry, or upset. Alright?"

I blinked before smiling at the fact that I couldn't find an easy loophole. "Sure, Jazz. I promise."

"Good. Now gimme that and go back to sleep. Seb is going on and on how you need to rest and be left alone." The empty bowl was snatched from my hands and the hand in my hair pushed me to lay down.

I grunted and stretched out on the wonderful bed, sleep was already tugging faintly at my eyes. "How'd you get my parents to sign me over so quickly?" I asked softly, both curious on their methods and wondering if they'd even cared enough to fight to keep me.

"We have our ways. Prowl and I are calling in a few favors to have the papers put in through pronto. And we've already called your school and job and told them that you were going to be out for at least a week."

"My homework?" I recognized the vague answer and the change in subject for what they really were, but I let it rest. Maybe it was better if I didn't know.

"We'll pick it up soon so when you get bored you have something to work on. But we'll be damned if we let you stay up and fret over stupid worthless papers."

I huffed and smiled as I threw an arm over my eyes. "They're easy. It wouldn't take me long anyways."

"Smart alec."

"Smart Alex," I corrected with a smirk.

"Yes, yes. You're a child prodigy, but you're going to be a deaf child prodigy if Seb finds out your still awake."

"You know Beethoven was almost completely deaf when he turned out his best works in music."

"Go to sleep, Alex. Before I smother you."

"Fine. Fine. Pushy."

"I'm your legal guardian now. I get to be pushy."

"Sure, papa. Whatever floats your boat."

I got another flick. "Cheeky brat."

"Love you too," I sniped back before stiffening at how those three words just fell from my mouth. Oh, shit! Back up before he gets offended and this gets awkward. Back up, back up!

I twitched when Jazz ran a soft hand through my hair again, chuckling quietly. "Love you too, Alex."

My body slowly relaxed, mind buzzing at the open and honest admittance. I couldn't even remember the last time my own parents had said those words to me. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had them directed at me, period.

But now… We're family. My eyes welled up again. Jeez, I guess we all were a family.

I sat on what I dubbed 'My Workbench', swinging my legs. This place was always where I went to sit when I was at the garage and got to eat, needed to do homework, or was told to sit there and not move a fucking muscle. Yeah, right. I actually think it was Jazz's work bench, but that was only because of the stickers littering its surface. I don't know; I could be wrong, but the man had a weird thing for stickers. He tried giving me gold stars the other day. It got me to laugh, which might have been his goal from the beginning.

Anyway, the only reason I wasn't cooped up in the bedroom upstairs was because I begged Sebastian to let me out before my brain fried from boredom and that I would do anything he said as long as I _got out of there_. It had taken a day of wheedling, but I was finally carried down the stairs with a hand over my eyes so I didn't see the mysterious second floor. I suppose the only reason I hadn't been taken to Eric's house was because it was more convenient to just spend a few days here until Seb got over his mother hen mode then to constantly be shipping me back and forth. At least this way the guys could work and keep their overprotective watch over me.

It amused me as well as annoyed me. They were like a cat with its first litter of kittens. They _always_ had someone at my side or, at the very least, within shouting distance. Anything I needed was provided in the blink of an eye with extras. I swear to god they were trying to make me fat. Delicious smelling food was always shoved in my face at any available moment and I was pestered relentlessly until I ate it. Ugh. I felt so bloated. But I let them keep doing it with barely any protests because I probably did scare the living hell out of them by appearing unconscious and bleeding at the backdoor, so I figured this overprotective and suffocating behavior was them trying to get over their scare and make sure I was fine. Hell, even Gabe was in on the mother hen routine.

And even if a part of me was annoyed another part of me was pleased and soaking up every action and the meaning behind it. Not because I was an attention whore, though all the attention was nice, but because no one had ever fussed over me. Whenever I got sick before this I always took care of myself and my parents certainly never cared if they saw bruises on me. It was nice to have someone worry and care if I was feeling alright.

But it was still suffocating and boring. So here I was sitting on My Workbench in the garage and watching as the guys worked. Third day of Seb-Care and my homework was completed as well as any extra credit and I was stuck with my ass firmly planted on the sticker-infested metal surface. They wouldn't even let me get tools for them and I'd already gnawed my way through three car manuals.

Bor. Ing. Boooooorrrrrriiiiinnnnnnggggggg. _BORING_.

Someone kill me please! Wait, no. Don't do that. I wouldn't get to ogle Eric's ass then. Oh jeez, I was going to have to find out what brand and size those jeans were and make sure he got more of them. Aaannnnndddd he was bending down even further. (^U^). Mmmnn, dat ass. Gimme gimme gimme gimme. Shit, he's looking this way go back to the car manual you've already read three times… And back to ogling. (**AN: wtf is wrong with me… I blame it on the Optimus is Transformers Prime. Dat ass… And of course on sleepyoldvamp's pictures on deviantart. Holy crap those are amazing pictures.**)

I slapped my forehead and rubbed it, laughing at myself. Jesus, I was bored. And because I was so bored and looking for something to do I noticed immediately when someone was standing in the doorway between the garage and reception area. A young woman looked in uncertainly, looking at the guys and hoping they would notice and come help her.

Finally, something I can do.

The woman happens to look at me and brightens when she sees me looking back. I smile and wave for her to hold on a second before looking around to see if any of the guys were watching me. If they saw me get up they would be on my ass quicker than I could say 'My ass!' When I was sure the coast was clear I quickly slipped from my seat and sped walked to the door, not stopping until I was out of sight from the garage.

I smiled up at the relieved looking red-head. "Hi. Is there something I can help you with?"

She smiled back and nodded. "Yeah, I was wondering if this place would be able to replace the transmission on my Cadillac."

"No problem," I answered as I moved over to the counter and the computer. "We take in any car and have them up and running as soon as possible. Just fill this out and take a seat." I gave her a paper to put down the car's information.

"Thank god," the woman breathed, body sagging in relief. "No one else is willing to take my car. They say it's too new or their prices are outrageous."

I frowned in sympathy before leaning to the side from my perch on the barstool and looking over the cars, trying to find the 'new' Cadillac she was talking about. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw it. A whistle left me as I grinned charmingly at the woman. "If I give you a discount will you take me for a spin? I've been dying to get my hands on the 2014 Cadillac ELR."

She giggled, handing me the paper back. "Maybe if you throw in a few more of those smiles and a chance to watch those hunky men work. I know someone who appreciates a good butt when I see them."

I'm sure I would've felt shocked and then closed off that she saw me ogling Eric if she wasn't smiling and leaning close like a conspirator. My chest warmed in something that wasn't my chest-heat for once and I grinned back, leaning closer. "They work out, girl. And work on cars so I get to spend all day just staring and drooling."

She laughed, smothering it with a hand and a glance at the garage door in case she was heard. A delicate hand reached over the counter and slapped my shoulder, blue eyes twinkling with mirth. "I totally envy you," she whisper-shouted, doing a quick dance in her six inch heels. "I would die happy if I got to see that every day."

I brushed my nails against my shirt, shining them in an overdramatic manner. "I know. I got it good." I got another slap and giggle, but I picked up my chair and nodded at her to grab one of the ones lining the wall. "Come on." It was completely hilarious. Here I found myself with a woman, she was maybe twenty, and we were peeking over the glass window to look into the garage and giggling and laughing and whispering to each other as we watched the guys work. My god, highlight of my day.

The woman gasped, eyes wide as Gabe leaned back and stretched, arms above his head. "Do it again!" she quietly begged, bouncing in her seat.

I laughed and grinned. "Don't let the blond one hear you say that. He's very protective of who gets to ogle his boyfriend."

She pouted. "Why is it always the hot ones that are gay?" I was a bit surprised when she reached out and pinched my cheek lightly. "I wouldn't mind hooking up with you, but you just have to be more interested in looking at their butts than at my chest." Her chest? My eyes naturally fell down and for the first time I noticed the ample amount of smooth chest revealed by her top. And I felt nothing. She sighed and patted my head. "Oh, well. I'll just go on hoping and praying that maybe I can make a gay man go straight."

I patted her hand consolingly and nodded in sympathetic understanding. "I'm sure you'll find that one guy for you and you can take him out for a spin in that hot ELR." She giggled and fake-sobbed.

"Alex?"

My head popped up when I heard my name and a glance through the window showed Eric looking around in concern. Ah. Looks like my freedom was over. I waved a hand and he saw it immediately. "Hey, Eric," I greeted with a wide grin. "You done with that car? 'Cause there's a sexy Cadillac ELR that needs a transmission replaced." I dangled the woman's keys enticingly.

Eric looked a bit conflicted, wiping his hands on a rag. "What are you doing?" he finally asked.

My grin widened if that was at all possible. Maybe I wasn't going to be moved. "Oh, just running the register and welcoming our good and loyal customers," I answered, waving at the counter and the people in the waiting area, who were trying to smother their laughter and smiles since they had been listening to me and the woman this entire time.

I got an I-don't-believe-you look, and he cocked his hip to the side slightly. The woman behind me muttered something about him turning around and doing that, but I think I was the only one that heard her even if I almost lost my composure and broke down laughing. "Uh-huh. And that's all you've been doing?"

"What else would I be doing? I'm not even getting up from my seat. I've just been sitting here and telling this fine, young lady what you're all doing." I put my best innocent face on, but Eric saw right through it.

"Sure, Alex," he drawled with a smirk before taking the keys from my hands. "Don't let Seb see you here." Then he left and I tilted my head to the side while leaning back in my seat, watching the ass for as long as I could. Eric then turned and caught me staring. I nearly fell out of my seat straightening up, smiling charmingly and waving cheekily. The smirk grew as he turned away, putting an extra bit of sway in his hips.

"Oh, hot damn," I murmured to myself before trying to stifle my laughter with the woman.

"You've got it so bad," she gasps, wiping her eyes carefully. "And so does he." We fall into another fit of laughing and whispers. When we finally get a hold of ourselves she asks, "So why aren't you in there with them?"

I smile a bit and tap the gauze taped to my cheek, covering the cut on my face. "I got jumped the other night and they're being overprotective. They won't even let me get up and walk some place let alone do an oil change."

"I'd say that that's what brothers do if it weren't for the fact that you were ogling all of them and two of them are in a relationship."

I hummed, scanning my eyes over the three men present in the garage, not looking at their butts of course. "But I think we act like brothers," I muttered. "We may not be blood, but we act like it."

The woman 'aw'ed and pulled me into a tight hug, ruffling my hair. "You're just too cute!" I grumble and fight half-heartedly to get free as she coos and pets me. "But now we go back to ass-watching."

"Yes. Let's."

Later that day I'm crashed out on the bed on the second floor, sleeping lightly since I'd just fallen back asleep from a nightmare, when I feel the bed dip. My head instantly snaps up, bleary eyes peering through the darkness to see who was moving onto the bed.

"It's just me." Oh. Eric.

I grunt and let my head fall back into my pillow, turning over and curling up again to fall back asleep. When I feel his hands rolling me over and slipping arms underneath me, I mumbled a question as I'm lifted up off the bed and pressed to a warm and muscled chest.

"We're going home," Eric answers quietly.

Okay. Good. I adjust my place, wrapping my arms around Eric's neck and burying my face in his neck. I'm already on the cusp of falling back asleep when I feel Eric lean down and put me on something angular and not quite comfortable with things sticking out of it. I wake just enough to turn and move in the backseat of Eric's car until I'm comfortable. Vaguely, I hear a car door closing, quiet murmurs, and the car starting up. A hand that is probably Gabriel's puts itself on my back, holding me still so I didn't roll over and fall off the seat or slide anywhere. Sure. Whatever. If it makes them feel better what do I care?

I don't wake again until I feel myself being put down onto a bed. "We home?" I asked, stretching out on my bed.

A familiar hand runs through my hair, playing with my black bangs. "Yeah, we're home, Alex."

"Good." I go limp, completely boneless and ready to fall asleep until I feel the hand retreating from my head. "Stay," I mumble sleepily, tugging on Eric's wrist.

"Alex," he protests softly, though I feel the bed depress like he put a knee on the mattress.

"Don't want nightmares," I explain as best as I can, blinking and forcing the sleep from my mind despite how my body and mind were begging me to sink back to sleep. I hadn't been sleeping well at all these past few days. "I just want to sleep." When Eric remains silent, some sense returns to my brain and I let the wrist go. "Don't be so serious, Eric," I chastise, rubbing my eyes as I looked up at his large shadowy form. "I'm just kidding. Go to bed. You've got work tomorrow. And that lawyer guy is showing up then, right? You need to sleep."

The hand came back to my hair. "You're a horrible liar when you're awake," he told me and I felt the bed dip as he settled fully onto the mattress. "You can barely tell the truth when you're tired."

"Guilty," I admit as I wait for him to still before rolling over and curling up into his form. My hands grab lightly at the shirt over his chest and I nuzzle the exposed skin just above his collar. "So warm." My body shivers as I say this, shaking off the last of the cold as Eric's heat blanketed me. I finally stop moving when I rest my forehead against the small bit of skin and relax, falling back asleep. He really did feel nice and maybe I should be embarrassed that I had a grown man, one I was seriously attracted to, in my bed and under the covers, but right now I was too effin tired and warm to care. I knew at least I would avoid the nightmares now.

I felt it when Eric's arms wormed their way around my chest, large hands coming to rest on my back, rubbing slow circles. He hummed deeply, chest vibrating with the sound. "I won't go anywhere," he told me, softly nuzzling the top of my head.

"Good," I grunted before falling asleep.

"Eric."

Eric slowly opened his eyes, registering that someone was calling his name. He stretched, tightening his hold on whatever was pressed to his chest. It was only when that something moved and his stretching legs brushed bare feet that his sleepy mind realized it was an actual person he was holding. His eyes opened all the way and peered down at where Alex had lifted his head and was looking around, roused from his sleep by the movement and sound. Eric was beginning to think that Alex was a very light sleeper. He watched in dawning realization as Alex looked around the room and over his shoulder to meet Eric's gaze. The two sleepy blue gazes held each other for a moment before Alex flopped back down on the bed. "Too early," he groaned, shifting back so his back was pressing more firmly against Eric's chest.

The ebony moved his hands from where they were pressed to Alex's chest to lightly grab his waist. He thought about pushing Alex away and getting up before realizing how good he felt, rested and relaxed. He flopped down too, pulling Alex closer as he grunted in agreement.

That is until there was the sound of a picture being taken. Alex immediately jolted up, jostling Eric as he struggled to comprehend what was going on when all he wanted to do was fall asleep. Then Alex was jumping from the bed, yelling at Jazz to give 'it' to him.

Eric rolled on his back and stretched, looking at Sebastian, who was looking very smug from where he stood by the bed. "So how did you sleep?" he asked sweetly.

Eric, who always had trouble waking up, just blinked, missing the mischief and knowing look in those green eyes. "Very well. You?"

Seb rolled his eyes and reached down to grab Eric's arm and dragged him off the mattress. "You slept in. We've got to get going."

From somewhere in the house Eric could hear Alex shouting curses and Jazz laughing and then the sound of something heavy falling over. Seb turned and yelled that Alex better not be straining himself. Eric went limp, half on the bed half off the bed.

He wanted coffee.

I looked at the closed door with a small frown. The lawyer, Mr. Bennett, had just left after giving us a rundown of everything he knew and how he expected the trial to go. The others were thrilled at the news. My guardianship had official been awarded to Jazz and my father had been arrested. Jazz said Prowl had done it personally and he was very happy about it. Mr. Bennett also said that my mother had been removed from the house and put in a medical facility where she would be taken care of. The lawyer thought the trial, which was planned for a few days from now, would go over quickly. The judge was notorious for being harsh on child abusers and Mr. Bennett had all the evidence he needed to make sure my father was put away for a long time. We were told that all of us would be called to the stand to answer a few questions, I would be asked to retell what happened, and what to expect the defense attorney to ask and say.

Everything was planned out and good. Everything was turning out right. Except for the lump of guilt that sat heavy in my gut.

"Something wrong, kid?" Gabriel asked and I turned to see him watching me. His question pulled the others from their excited chatter and they got that evaluating look in their eyes that I knew meant they were trying to see if I needed something.

"No," I answered quietly, turning to look at the door once more. "Nothing's wrong."

I felt a weight drop next to my side from where I was sitting on the couch. An arm draped itself over my shoulders and tightened in a hug. "Than what's with the frown, _mon ami_?" Jazz asked.

The words wouldn't come to me for a moment as I tried to unglue my gaze from the door. It didn't work. "I feel bad, I guess," I finally said. "It feels wrong to turn my back on my father and to leave my mother in someone else's hands. I should be taking care of them."

"Oh, Alex." Seb dropped to a knee in front of me, turning my head and breaking my gaze with the door. "It should've never been your responsibility to take care of them."

I frowned at the blond man, confused and little bit irritated by the pity in his eyes. "Family takes care of each other," I countered. "I know we were never really close, but I can't just turn my back on them."

"You have no duty to them," Seb stressed, taking my hands up in his. "Yes, family takes care of each other, but it's the parents' job and role to make sure the kids are fed and clothed regularly; that they always have a safe place to come back to. The children and teenagers should go only as far as keeping the house clean, their grades up, and maybe buying things for themselves with their own money on occasion. But…you went further than that, didn't you?"

My silence was answer enough as I took Seb's hand in mine and turned it over, running my digits over his callouses and palm. "You gave money to them…to pay for the bills." I didn't deny it. "You bought your mother's medication. You never told them that you were hungry or if you needed something. You bought your own clothes and shoes. You were the one that brought the groceries home. You were the only one with a stable job." My hands continued to fuss with Seb's, turning them over and tracing over his knuckles and the scars there.

"Alex, please look at me." I didn't want to, but I eventually pulled my eyes from our hands and looked up into those knowing grass green eyes. Seb took control of my hands again, squeezing them and holding them tight in his own as his eyes begged mine to understand and accept. "You should have never felt the need to do any of that."

"And just what was I supposed to do?" I demanded hotly, glaring at the doctor. "Was I supposed to just sit there, watching as the beer cans piled up on the floor and the house collected layers upon layers of filth? Was I supposed to let my mother starve and lay in agony when she could die the next day? She has lung cancer. We can't afford chemo. She could die in her sleep, in pain, when I could've done something to make it better for her. If I didn't do it then who would? I wasn't about to just…_leave _them there to rot away and die. What kind of person does that?"

Sebastian looked down at our hands, which I hadn't torn apart no matter how indignant and angry I was getting. Emotions conflicted and clashed in those normally unreadable green eyes until he sighed. "Your mother doesn't have lung cancer, Alex."

I blinked, jerking back as if I'd been hit. "What?" I squeaked, not believing what I'd just heard.

Sebastian looked back up at me, sympathetic pain glowing on his face. "Your mother doesn't have lung cancer," he repeated quietly. "I have a friend who works at the medical facility she was sent to. They ran the tests. Your mother never had cancer in the first place. She's in their rehabilitation program now to deal with her addiction to prescription drugs."

My head was shaking before I even knew what I was doing. "N-No. She was diagnosed when I was nine. She went to the doctor and everything. She got better when she had her meds. Don't tell me she never had cancer! I lived with her. I watched her waste away and get sick over the years. I heard her in pain whenever she ran out. She…She has cancer! I've been watching her die for years!"

The doctor's chilled hands left mine to come up and cup my face, leaning up to pressed his forehead to mine. My hands clung to his wrists as I desperately searched him eyes for some sign that he was lying; that this wasn't true. "The feeling that one can go without eating, the paranoia of going outside for fear of being caught as a drug user, the pain and shakiness when she didn't have her drugs and had to go through withdrawal and only feeling better when she has her drugs again. These are all classic symptoms of drug addiction. I've seen it a hundred times and I know the signs. My friend is an oncologist, has been one for years. Your mother doesn't show the slightest sign of ever having cancer at any point in her life." I shook my head again, vision blurring from tears and he nodded tiredly. "Yes, Alex. Your mother never had cancer. She is addicted to drugs."

I took as deep a breath as I could, knowing I was this close to breaking down. "S-She lied to me?" Seb nodded. "But…but I…" Jazz wrapped his arms around me and Seb covered my other side. "She let me think she was dying? That she had cancer?...She used me to get drugs?"

"I'm so sorry, Alex."

"How…? Why would she do that? I didn't…" I scrubbed my eyes hard, head aching and heart hurting. "I did everything for her! And she just…_used_ me?" I took several deep breaths before straightening and the two men pulled back, watching as I rubbed my face. "I should've known. God damn it, why did I expect her to be different?"

"She was your mother," Gabe murmured. "To a child, mother is never wrong and is perfect. We don't expect her to hurt us."

"Damn straight," I agreed.

Seb flicked my ear. "Watch you language," he chided, getting up from his kneeling position and going to sit in Gabe's lap. The larger man easily held him.

I stuck my tongue out at him before laughing. "This is so depressing. Can we do something fun?"

Jazz practically purred next me. "Oh, now you're speaking my language. Let me see what I can find." I laughed again when he pressed a sloppy and loud kiss to my cheek before bouncing off.

A hand dropped on my shoulder and I looked up to see Eric with an apologetic look. I patted his hand. "Don't get mushy on me, Phoenix. I'll be just fine."

He nodded and ruffled my hair, making me squawk in protest. "I have no doubt," he told me, letting me reach up and pull his long red-streaked bangs in retaliation.

Chasing the Flame

I honestly don't know what to say about this chapter. I have an Optimus/Bumblebee snuggle moment. Alex loves ass-watching. Oh, and the guys are brutally efficient when it comes to getting what they want. I'll let you guys figure out just how Gabe and Jazz got Bee's father to sign the papers. And his mother isn't forgotten. Don't do drugs, guys. Not worth it.

Remember to go check out sleepyoldvamp on DA!


	9. Chapter 9

One thing that sucks about summer is that the days blur together. I completely thought yesterday was Thursday. Then I wake up today and one of my siblings is singing "It's Friday" and I'm like wtf. Well, school is coming up so that problem will be solved soon. Here's a nice long chapter. Just so you know, I have no experience in the United States court of law. The only knowledge I have is from various movies and shows I watch on occasion, so I'm sorry for any errors or technicalities. And some parts of this chapter you can skip over because it's retelling a scene I already wrote, but I couldn't exactly take it all out without it looking like I was halfassing it. Sorry.

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DA

Plot and OCs © me

CHAPTER WARNINGS: SLIGHT YAOI

"How are you feeling?" Chase asked as we watched Jazz saunter down from the witness stand.

"Sick," I whispered.

"Don't be. Everything is stacked against your father. All his defense can do is damage control."

We'd woken up early this morning and got dressed in our best clothes. Seb fussed over my hair, trying to get my bangs to lay flat, but failing. It was a tense atmosphere as we got ready for the trial.

Mr. Bennett met up to us at the courthouse, looking downright cheerful and optimistic. He said that he'd spoken with the judge and she hinted that she wasn't going to go easy in the least on my father. I was silent and watched as I was directed to sit away from my family at the table next to Mr. Bennett. They were sitting right behind me, but I would've felt better sitting between them. Maybe then I wouldn't feel quite like throwing up.

It was a tense moment when my father was led in, dressed in a suit and looking nice if it weren't for the cuffs around his wrists. He gave me a dark glare as he sat down at the other table, but I ignored him and instead smiled when I heard Gabe and Jazz start stage whispering about all the ridiculous things they wanted to do to him. One of them involved tying him up, covering him in black oil, and seeing how fast he could roll and slide down a hill into a boiling vat of marshmallows. I was grateful for their distraction.

The judge came in with the jury and we stood up and sat down. The lady judge, Judge Bellmen, recited what the trial was about and the charges to be determined today and then we got under way. Several of my father's 'friends' were called up and asked how they knew my father and what their opinion was of him. A few of my teachers from school were called up and I smiled gratefully at them when they gave nothing but glowing praise about me. My family was called up as well and did the same, though they had to tell how they found me outside the shop unconscious as well. There was nothing special about their testimonies.

Sebastian was the last to be called up. He sat in the chair, waiting to be questioned. "Mr. Lakare, I would like you to testify, not as Alex's friend and confident, but as his doctor," our lawyer started. "Can you do that?"

Seb nodded firmly. "Of course."

"Now, for the jury, can you please confirm that you are Alex's doctor and treated him once he was found unconscious?"

"I am and did."

"Thank you. Can you please tell us how the morning went when Alex was found?"

Sebastian sat back, folding his fingers together. "I was the only one at home that morning," he started calmly. "Eric, Gabriel, and Jazz left to go open up the shop and get the day started. I would've been there too, but I had a shift at the hospital that morning and I was just about to leave when Gabriel called me. He told me to get to the shop as quickly as I could because Alex was unconscious and hurt. So I grabbed my travel bag and left."

"And what did you see when you arrived at the Firebird Autoshop?"

"I saw that Gabriel, Jazz, and Eric were in the second floor spare bedroom and that Alex was unconscious on the bed."

"Can you describe the injuries you saw?"

Seb huffed and sat forward once more. "He had a large bruise on his cheek, which was mostly obscured from blood due to the cut on the same cheek. He had a ring of dark bruises around his neck as well as wheezed breathing characteristic of a strangulation victim. He also had a contusion on his head and his pupils weren't dilating, telling me he had a concussion. I removed his shirt and saw he had more injuries on his chest and back. Large bruises covered most of his chest and back and on his chest were scratches. Some of those scratches went under his pants, forcing me to check for fear he'd been raped. Luckily enough, there was no such evidence, only bruises and scratches on his genitalia."

Mr. Bennett nodded and spun from where he was pacing, listening to the medical report before going back to the table and grabbing a piece of paper and bringing it back to Seb. "Do you recognize this?"

Seb obligingly peered at the paper and nodded. "That's the report I filled out listing Alex's injuries while Officer Chase Hunter took photographic evidence. I gave it to him to put on the record and use as evidence."

"Good. Now, if everyone will look at the screen, I'd like Doctor Lakare to identify some pictures." All eyes turned as commanded by the lawyer to the portable white screen set up to the left of the Judge's seat.

The projector came on and I jolted when I saw the picture. It was me. I was unconscious and pale as I lay on the bed, blood just barely hiding the hideous and ugly bruise on my cheek and my head was tilted to the side in such a way to expose the vicious ring around my neck. Mr. Bennett continued to speak, despite the murmuring in the audience and jury. "Dr. Lakare. Is this how you found Alex at the Firebird Autoshop?"

"Yes."

"And all of these pictures showing these injuries," he clicked through a series of pictures slowly and I felt myself paling as the pictures came up and showed the room all the scratches and bruises that covered my back and chest. "Were these the ones you treated on Alex Steek?"

"Yes." I was surprised at the cool even tone Sebastian spoke with. If I was anyone but myself I would be getting furious and agitated at the reminder of such injuries. But for now I could only gape and boggle at the slide show. Was I really that bad? No wonder they fussed and worried like they did. A warm hand grazed my shoulder and I touched it in thanks, focusing back on Seb.

"And in your professional opinion, what would you say the cause of those injuries was? Before you were told what happened, of course."

Seb didn't even blink. "I thought someone had tried to rape or even kill Alex."

Mr. Bennett nodded and backed away from the stand. "Thank you. The prosecutor has no further questions."

And then my father's lawyer stood up. He was a greasy, slimy man that just made me want to shudder in revulsion. He 'swaggered' up to the witness stand. "Mr. Lakare, how long have you known Alex Steek?"

"A few months. Eric introduced us."

"And how would you describe your…relationship with the boy?"

Seb's eyes narrowed as he watched every movement of the lawyer, but he himself never twitched a muscle. He reminded me of a cat watching a mouse. "Close friends," he answered shortly.

The lawyer smiled and waved a hand at me. "And what was your reaction when you heard that Alex had been hurt? And when you saw him?"

"I was worried, scared, and angry in all instances. Alex is a sweet boy who didn't deserve to be hurt like that."

"Yes, yes. The 'sweet' and 'innocent' boy," the lawyer repeated in a mocking tone, blinking hard as if to try and fight tears. "So tragic. But what I'm interested in is your reaction. In the court of law, we have to trust that a medical report was done by a nonbiased and uninfluenced professional. And you, it appears, are neither."

Seb's eyes narrowed further at the veiled insult that he wasn't good at his job, but let it slide. I really had to admire his physical control of his emotions. He didn't even tense up in anger. "Are you alluding—"

"I'm not alluding to anything," the greasy lawyer interrupted before turning to Judge Bellmen. "Your Honor, I would like to request that the testimonies and evidence provided by Mr. Sebastian Lakare and Officer Chase Hunter be struck from the record and removed entirely from the case on the basis that they are both emotionally compromised when it comes to Alex Steek."

The Judge did not look happy as she flicked her gaze to Mr. Bennett, who was already moving forward. "Objection!" my lawyer protested. "There is physical evidence that proves that Doctor Lakare and Officer Hunter are capable of remaining aloof and unattached in periods of high stress and emotions. There are several cases in which Officer Hunter has had to testify or supply evidence and he has always been exemplary is his unbiased reports. And Doctor Lakare has spent a dozen years in the service of the U.S. military as field medic and surgeon, often having to operate on his own friends and comrades as a result. In those situations, he is forced to remain calm and take in every detail in order to save their lives and I think that is the same case here. None of the evidence of statement have been compromised or tampered with in the least."

"Sustained," Judge Bellmen ruled, thumping her gavel down in finality. I slumped in my seat, not even realizing I was tensing up until that moment. Sebastian looked very pleased as he watched the greasy lawyer fume and stalk away, saying that he had no further questions.

The blond man gave me a reassuring and cocky smile as he stepped down and moved to sit with the rest of my family. Mr. Bennett cleared his throat. "The prosecutor would like to call Randolf Steek to the stand." My father stood up and slinked his way to the chair. He was sworn in and he sat down. His black beady gaze instantly found mine now that we were facing each other and he glared his hate at me.

"Mr. Steek," Mr. Bennett began. "I suppose we'll get right down to the point. Why don't you tell us about what happened that night two weeks ago?"

My father smiled a bit as he took his eyes away from me and looked at my lawyer. "I was just coming home late from a night out with some friends. He was awake and demanded to know where I've been, accusing me of cheating on my wife. When I said it wasn't any of his business, he started getting in my space. He poked and got in my way and kept asking me where I'd been and that I was shameless for having an affair. I told him then that I was faithful to my wife and that he needed to calm down. That's when he got violent." I seethed quietly in my chair and fought the urge to slouch and sink in the uncomfortable piece of furniture. Liar, liar pants on fire. I think Jazz and Gabe might have mentioned that as one of the things they wanted to do to my father. But I couldn't get over the indignation I felt. Me? Attack that fat ass? Please, he wasn't worth my time.

Mr. Bennett nodded thoughtful. "Is that what happened?"

"Yes. Are you calling me a liar?"

"No. Not at all. Just making sure you knew what you were saying. So, Alex gets violent and then what happens?"

"I fight him off, of course! The little slip of a kid wasn't able to get a good hold of me, but he kept coming at me so I had to defend myself."

"And 'defending yourself' involves choking your own son and giving him a severe concussion?"

"You think I'm going to hold back in a fight for my life?"

"And what about the scratches? How did scratches end up on Alex's sides, chest, and on his privates?"

My father shrugged and I held perfectly still when his black eyes came back to me. "Hell, if I know. For all I know he was with someone before I got home."

"Keep your suspicions to yourself, Mr. Steek," Judge Bellmen snapped. "This is a court of law where accusations are backed by evidence."

"Right." He sneered at me once more before turning back to Mr. Bennett. "The kid figured out at some point that he wasn't going to be able to beat me and got a good hit in before running away."

"I have to wonder, though, Mr. Steek, why you didn't call the police. You'd just been assaulted by your son and in a 'fight for your life'. I would think that the proper response would be to call the authorities and have your son arrested." My lips quirked. I liked this lawyer. He kept throwing my father's word back in his face and making him sound like a dramatic moron.

And that apparently went over my father's head because he didn't even look the slightest bit offended. "I was worried for him. I didn't want him to get arrested and go to jail. He's just starting his life after all." My stomach heaved at the fake caring parental face he put on then. Mother fucker. Don't you dare use your tittle as my father to get your way.

Mr. Bennett nodded coolly. "Alright. I have no further questions." My lawyer came back to sit next to me as the defense attorney went up and started asking questions on how my father had cared for me my whole life and started giving everyone the idea that my father was the best dad of the year. I felt like throwing up. Mr. Bennett sat close to me and began to whisper. "You're going to be going up next, alright? Get ready for him to try and discredit everything you say. He's going to try and make you seem like a punk hooligan that has it out for his father. Don't panic. If you can't think of anything to say just take a deep breath, collect your thoughts, and go again. Got it?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm ready." I _so_ wasn't ready. My stomach was doing an effin gymnastics floor routine.

My father stepped down and I'm sure I paled even more when my name was called. Steeling myself, I got up as carefully as I could from my chair and made my way over to the chair. The security officer stopped me just before I went through the little door in the counter that surrounded the chair. He held up the bible and I mechanically put my right hand on it.

"Do you solemnly swear or affirm that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

I nodded. "I do." Then I stepped into the little box and sank into the uncomfortable chair, looking out at the watching audience. I was going to be sick. My family smiled and nodded encouragingly as Mr. Bennett approached me.

"Hello, Alex," he greeted warmly. "How are you doing?"

A slightly hysterical laugh escaped me, but I forced a smile, tilting my head to the side a bit, a habit I hadn't lost over the years. "Oh, jolly good. Just thought that now would be a good time to figure out that I have stage fright." Laughter and chuckles reached my ears from the audience and I settled a bit.

Mr. Bennett smiled. "I think you're going to do just fine. Let me know if it gets to be too much, alright?" I nodded silently, sinking slightly in my chair and fussing with the microphone so it was closer to me. "Please state your full name for the record," my lawyer requested.

"Alexander Bee Steek," I promptly said. I could do that. I mean, there's nothing complicated about my name.

"And how old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Still a minor then."

I hissed a bit dramatically. "Much to my dismay." More laughter and the trembling in my hands eased.

"Kids. Always wanting to grow up," my lawyer teased, going with my joking vibe. Something I was grateful for. "Now, who do you live with at home?"

"There's me, my mother, Alicia Steek, and my father, Randolf Steek."

"Good, good. And how is your relationship with your father?"

"Nonexistent," I instantly reply after I was lulled into a false sense of confidence from the easy answers. A glance showed that my father's expression was darkening.

"And why's that?"

I shrug and look down. "Lots of reasons."

"Care to explain a few?"

A hum of reluctance left me but I nodded. "He's never home. Always drinking. He never gets food or pays the bills because he only gets his money from gambling."

My father's lawyer jumped up. "Objection! My client's interests and pursuits in his free time are of no concern to the child or this court."

I wince when Judge Bellmen's gavel taps down. "Sustained."

"That's alright, Alex," my lawyer soothed with an easy smile. "How about we move on to that night? Why don't you tell us what happened?"

My body shifts and twitches without my conscious consent, but I clear my throat nonetheless. "I came home around 10:45, 11:00 at night. There's beer cans everywhere and I'm not tired, so I start cleaning up. I figure my mother was either out of the house or sleeping upstairs and my father wasn't there. I didn't expect him to come in while I was cleaning up."

"And based on his appearance, what would you say his state of mind was?"

"He looked drunk. He had on these old nasty clothes and they were wrinkled and stained and he just had this dazed look in his eyes and a beer can in his hand."

"What happened next?"

"He asked me where I've been. I didn't understand and tried to tell him I've been here cleaning up, but he meant before I came home. When I tell him that I was just out walking around, he doesn't believe me and accuses me of being a prostitute: asking me how much I charged. I told him to go to bed and sleep off whatever funk he was in and I was going to leave him and keep cleaning up. Then he punches me in my left cheek and next thing I know I'm on the floor." I pause and look to see if my attorney wants to ask more questions, but he just waves me on. A sigh leaves me, but I do so. "He drops down and straddles my waist and grabs my jaw, asking me how I liked to 'take it'. When I tell him to get off of me he pours his beer on my face.

He starts choking me then, grinding his pelvis against mine. He's yelling at me and I can't breathe and I can't get him off of me. He pulls up my shirt and starts groping and scratching me before moving to my pants. He grabs me and squeezes and I'm about to pass out." I stop for a moment and rub my thumb between my eyebrows, looking down at my lap. It was a bit hard talking about what happened—I hadn't even told the guys what happened that night in detail—but I pulled up as much control as I could and just recounted it no matter how the memories spun in my head or how shame and embarrassment that this even happened burned through me. "He has to lift up his hips in order to…grab me like that, so I finally have room to kick and shove him off of me. I'm trying to stand when he throws a beer bottle and I get glass on me, cutting my cheek. He grabs me by the neck and shoves me up against the wall, grinding again, telling me what he's going to do to me."

"And what did he say, Alex?"

I took a deep breath. "He said he'd give it to me straight up the ass and that I would be screaming for more. He said he'd keep giving it to me until I couldn't make a single sound." Murmurs and whispers swept through the room and I could feel the death glare my father was sending me.

"And after that?"

"I began to panic. I couldn't breathe and I couldn't move my body to fight." I shrugged a bit and forced a smile at Mr. Bennett. "I really thought I was going to die. I don't know what I did but I got him off of me and I was gone. I went to my friends' house to look for help and when they weren't there I went to the Autoshop."

My lawyer nodded. "So you're saying that your father's claim that you assaulted him was a lie."

I straightened and nodded. "Yes."

I watched as Mr. Bennett went back to his briefcase and pulled out a few papers before setting them in front of me. "Can you please tell everyone what these documents are?"

My eyes went to the papers and I smiled at the sight. I really liked this lawyer. "These are my certificates saying I'm a black belt in taekwondo, judo, and karate."

"So I think it's safe to say that if you ever attacked someone you could do some serious harm."

My smile grew. "Yeah."

My lawyer cast his eyes at the judge and jury as he backed up, taking my certificates with him. "So if what Alex's father is saying is true then how come Alex, a master in three different martial arts, was the one who came out obviously injured?" No one answered and Mr. Bennett looked satisfied. "No further questions."

I had to resist the urge to bare my teeth at my father's lawyer as he came up and took Mr. Bennett's spot. "Alex, you claim that it was your father that attacked you, yes?"

"Yes."

"Did your father, in this 'assault'," My hackles raised when he used obnoxious air quotes. "Hit you in the head or gave you any other such damage?"

I blinked, trying to see where he was going with this. "Yes. When I was pinned to the ground and he was choking me he banged my head against the floor repeatedly."

"And all that 'choking' must've made you _awfully_ dizzy, didn't it?"

My eyes narrowed as the man stepped back and started pacing. "Yes, I was dizzy."

"So when I ask if you were thinking correctly, you would say that it was hard to put together even a single puny thought, correct?"

Oh, so that's what he was doing. "I was coherent enough to find my way to my friends' house and get to the Autoshop when I realized they weren't there," I countered.

"But not coherent enough to call them, huh?" I blinked and stared at the man as he started going on about teenagers and their cellphones.

"I don't have a phone," I blurted, cutting off the attorney.

"I find that hard to believe," the man spluttered, knocked off balance by my claim and interruption.

I shook my head and smiled. "I'm a minor with no job and parents who don't have any job whatsoever. Where would I find the money to buy a phone?"

The lawyer deflated a bit and gave me an evil eye before moving on. "But we can all agree that your mind was…addled."

"Not completely," I retorted. "Again. I managed to find my way to my—"

"Yes, yes. You've already said so," the lawyer cut in, waving a hand impatiently. "But perhaps you were concussed enough that your memories of the night were altered and changed."

"What?" I said, staring at the smug man in shock as he smoothed back his gelled hair.

"Concussions are notorious for causing temporary brain damage and even removing whole chunks of memory at times. Even your doctor, Sebastian Lakare, filed a notice with the Police Department requesting that you have a week's reprieve in order for you to recover enough to give a reliable statement. Obviously there was quite a bit of head trauma." The snake turned to the judge and jury. "You see? My client has a much more reliable statement than that of a confused and hurting boy. It was a miracle in the first place that the boy only suffered minor memory tampering as his brain couldn't accept what he did that night, attacking his own father."

"Except I remember everything," I cut in, sitting up straight and glaring down at my father's lawyer. I wasn't going to be written off and chance giving my father a chance to walk. "I remember every last detail of that night."

"That's all well and good, but—" the lawyer tried to cut in with a mock pitying look.

I interrupted him. "'But' nothing. I remember that it was a Bud Lite can in his hand. I remember that he was wearing his black Adidas shirt. I remember the smell of alcohol on his breath. I remember feeling that little piercing he has on his dick when he pressed his erection to my stomach."

My father leapt up, yelling at me to shut the fuck up, the lawyer was trying to talk and discredit me, and Gabriel was being pulled back down into his seat by Seb, who had a hand over his mouth to silence him. I glared back at my father, but bit my tongue. I wouldn't give him any more leverage. A police officer came up behind my father and forced him to sit down as the judge banged her gavel repeatedly, calling for order. "Silence in the court!" she shouted, daring anyone to say anything and everyone in the room shut their mouths. "Mr. Bennett, please check and confirm if such a piercing was reported in Randolf Steek's physical appearance report."

"Right away, Your Honor." My lawyer responded and we all waited and watched as he quickly went through his papers, flipping through them quicker than I could track. After a moment he nodded. "Randolf Steek does have a piercing on his genitalia." I sat back in my chair, satisfied. Even if no one believed me and my story it still looked bad for my father that I even knew he had that piercing. I met the eyes of my father's lawyer and cocked an eyebrow, waiting.

The judge heaved a sigh and rested her elbows on her desk. "Does the defense have any further questions?" she asks.

"No, Your Honor," my father's lawyer spat, glaring daggers at me as I smirk. Try and discredit me now, bitch. Mwahaha.

"Does the prosecutor have any more questions?"

I was already getting up from my seat, ready to get out of the spot light, when Mr. Bennett steps forward. "Actually, I do, Your Honor." My frown at the lawyer eased only a little bit when he waved me to sit down. What was he up to?

Judge Bellmen waved a dismissive hand. "Very well. Get on with it."

For the first time since we stepped into the courtroom, I watched as my lawyer stood there indecisive. What could he ask me that made him so conflicted? I began to get a sinking feeling in my gut and glanced at my family. They looked equally baffled, but smiled and waved when they saw me looking.

"Alex," Mr. Bennett asked, gaining my attention once more. "Have you been abused in the past by your father?" I jolted back, staring in shock at my lawyer and saw the apology in his eyes.

"Objection!" my father's attorney shouted. "Past claimed abuse has no place here at this trial."

"Overruled," Judge Bellmen snapped. "One of the charges against your client is child abuse, making the question relevant."

My attorney nods thanks to the judge before focusing back on me. I'm still staring at him in shock, mind whirling and flickering. "Alex?" he prompts.

My mouth opens, but no words come out. I close it again and stare down at my hands in my lap, mind distant as memories played in my mind. Did I want to answer that? Did I want to further humiliate myself? But it would put him away. He'd be going to jail. It's what he deserves. "Definition of abuse?" I asked quietly in the dead silence of the courtroom.

"According to federal law, any act or failure to act on the part of the parent, guardian, or caregiver that resulted in death, serious physical or emotional harm, and/or sexual abuse or exploitation."

I wish he wasn't so ready with the answer or to give me such a broad spectrum to include things in. My jaw works as I fight with myself over what to do before I make my decision and nod. "Yes," my voice answers coming over the speakers for everyone to hear.

"What kind of abuse?"

"'What kind of abuse'," I repeat to myself before straightening up once more and looking my lawyer straight in the eye. "When I was younger he would constantly strike out at me when I did something wrong or I got in his way. He would tell me that he could bury me in the backyard and no one would care. He broke my arm once when I spilt his beer while playing…"

The entire time I was speaking the defense was yelling at the judge to stop this because there was no evidence to back up my claims and my father had to be held back by police officers as he yelled and spat insults at me. I eventually stopped when Judge Bellmen pounded her gavel once more. "Order in the court! You two!" She jabbed a finger at my father and his attorney. "Be quiet and sit down or, so help me God, I'll have you removed from this room and held in contempt. Is that clear?!" They were reluctant, but they did settle down, my father's lawyer whispering furiously to my father as he seethed, turning an interesting shade of red. Judge Bellmen sighed and turned to me. "Sadly, because there is no evidence, I will have to strike your statement from the record."

"Not needed, Your Honor," Mr. Bennett said, bouncing lightly on his toes with a smile that was out of place in the tense and angry atmosphere. "I do have evidence to back up Alex. I'd like to call Alicia Steek to the stand."

My eyes flew to the door to the courtroom as it swung open and none other than my mother walked it. I stood up at the sight of her, gaping even as the security guard tugged me out of the witness stand. My father roared and shouted threats even as police officers told him to shut up and the judge called for order when everyone else in the room began to shift and talk amongst themselves. I couldn't take my eyes off my mother's thin and fragile body as she shuffled down the aisle, escorted by a security officer. What could she say here? What could she say that could back me up?

I plopped down in my chair at the table, watching as my mother was sworn in and she sat down. At Mr. Bennett's prompting she said, "My name is Alicia Steek, wife to Randolf Steek, mother to Alex Steek. And I have evidence that proves my husband has been beating my son for years."

My lawyer took a massive folder from his briefcase and offered it to the judge. "Your Honor, this is the documentation and official records of all the pictures, audio recordings, and visual recordings provided by Mrs. Steek when asked if she would testify against her husband." When she nodded in acceptance, Mr. Bennett turned to my mother. "Mrs. Steek, would you care to tell us what you've brought before the jury today?"

My mother shifted, eyes glancing at me and my father before going back down. "I…uh. I brought all of the pictures and recordings and videos I'd taken over the years of Randolf abusing Alex."

"Pictures such as these?" Mr. Bennett brought up his little remote and changed the picture on the white screen.

"Oh my god," I whispered, sitting forward as I looked at a picture of a younger me, sleeping in a bed. A hand was in the picture—my mother's hand—and it shifted away my long blond hair reveal the bruise on my check and black handprint around my tiny neck. It changed and showed a picture of my father, grabbing a younger me by my long hair and jerking my head back as he brought his fist down on me. It changed again to one of him pushing me down.

"Yes," my mother whispered, shaking as she watched an officer hold my father down in his seat. "Those are a few."

"And is this one of the videos?" I covered my face with my hands and put my elbows on the table when Mr. Bennett clicked his remote again. My father's voice came over the grainy audio, angry. My younger, high-pitched voice apologized and begged him to stop before crying out in pain when meaty sounds of flesh hitting flesh reached my ears. I didn't want to look up as everyone began shouting and standing up.

Familiar hands touched my back and shoulders and I heard Gabe and Eric in the cacophony of voices but then Judge Bellmen was screaming at everyone to be quiet. "Mr. Bennett, turn that video off this instant!" It was unnervingly silent for a moment before the judge spoke again. "I think we've all seen enough. The jury is now excused to deliberate and come to a decision."

My father's attorney gasped. "You won't even let us give our closing arguments?"

"I do not need to hear anything more nor am I required to. Now, _sit down_. Everyone is to remain in here. I have a feeling the jury won't be long."

It was a long five minutes. I refused to lift my face from my hands even when my lawyer sat next to me and asked if I was alright and apologizing when I didn't respond. Hands ghosted across my back, but I ignored that and the quiet murmurs and whispers going through the courtroom. Dear God. How long had it been since I thought about those events all those years ago? I'd actually repressed the memories to a fine degree until my lawyer asked that blasted question. And even then I could gain control of myself and my memories. But then my mother had to show up, with pictures and videos and… Jesus. I didn't want to remember.

My body trembled throughout the entire five minutes until I heard the jury file back in. Only then did I lift my head and watch as one juror stood up from his seat and unfolded a paper. He cleared his throat. "We, the jury, have reached a decision on the case of Randolf Steek vs. Alex Steek. We find Randolf Steek guilty of 12 counts of child abuse. Guilty of 1 count of assault, 1 count of child molestation, 1 count of attempted rape, and 1 count of attempted murder."

Judge Bellmen nods and bangs her gavel down as my father stands up, purple in the face and incoherent in fury as he glares at me and my mother, who was standing by the security guard by the witness stand. "The verdict has been made. Randolf Steek, I hereby sentence you to 55 years in prison with a chance at parole after 30 years. Get him out of my courtroom."

I stand up and watch as my father fights the police officers who were escorting him out of the room. It scares me a bit, the ferocity and viciousness he struggles with.

And then he breaks free.

My heart nearly stops as my father charges forward, eyes locked on my mother and I'm leaping over the table and standing between him and my mother before I even know what I'm doing. I'm just settling into a defensive stance, heart racing and mind trying to think of what to do, when there's a blur of blue and my father falls to the floor. I can only watch in shock as Eric shakes his hand, standing up straight as if he didn't just deck an enraged criminal. The stunned silence of the room is broken by Jazz's cheering. Of course.

After everything is done and all the paperwork is finished and filed away, we all head home and the guys don't hesitate to pull out the beer and crank up the music. Where once that might have made me nervous, now I just smiled as Gabe and Jazz wrestled across the floor and Chase and Seb talked animatedly on the couch across from Eric and I. I was content to cuddle into Eric's large side, soda can in hand. They'd made it a bit of a joke, showing me that I had an entire case of soda, scribbled over with warnings that no one should touch it but me since the beer was free-for-all. And I also got one of those soda holders that kept my hands from getting cold as I held it. The design on it was a Bud Lite beer can. "To fit in," Jazz said as he took a swig of his own beer. I think they just wanted to laugh at something.

"Doing okay?" Eric asked softly, tightening his arm around my shoulders when I tucked my feet underneath me.

I nodded and smiled at him over my shoulder. "Yeah. I'm good. Thank you, by the way."

"For what?" he asked, taking a drink of his beer. I honestly couldn't understand his interest in the drink. I'd rather die than risk falling under the thrall of alcohol, smoking, or drugs.

"Everything," I answered vaguely, shrugging. "I could go on for a while. But, to list a few, for decking my father, helping me avoid CPS, being there for me, et cetera."

Eric smiled that one smile that lit up his entire face and made the one he was smiling at feel warm inside. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head, rubbing his cheek over it. "Anytime, Alex. All you have to do is ask."

"Hopefully we don't ever have to go back to court," I replied, turning my head into him. "That was ridiculous."

Eric chuckled. "I think you handled yourself well up there. But I agree nonetheless."

I hummed happily and let my head rest on his chest, watching with lazy eyes as Gabe pinned Jazz and demanded he say mercy. Jazz begged Chase for help, who ignored him, and Seb scolded them for being so loud and reckless. It was an interesting and happy picture before me. Life was good and I could see nothing but good times with all of these guys.

A grunt escaped me when my chest-heat lit up and I leaned forward from my comfortable spot to put my soda on the coffee table so I didn't drop it before hunching over and rubbing my chest. Then Eric's hands were on my back, massaging and scratching lightly and I all but face planted forward on his stretched-out legs. "Oh my God, Eric," I moaned lowly, eyes fluttering shut as the man bunched my shirt up and left it by my neck, where I wriggled out of it the rest of the way, before going to work on my bare back. I shivered in delight at the feel of his nails scraping gently and his fingers digging into massage muscles. "You should've opened a spa, not a car shop. You're amazing."

Eric chuckled. "Thank you," he purred as he trailed his short nails from the top of my spine down to the hem of my pants. I shivered again, going limp in his arms.

"Back scratches?!" Jazz suddenly shrieked and I felt more than saw him leap over the couch to land on Eric's other side. I cracked open an eye to see him pulling off his own shirt and reached out, pushing him off the couch. He yelped and shot me a wounded look which I smirked at as I settled down again.

"Get your own," I mumbled and the pout was replaced by a grin.

"Prowl! Backy scratchys!"

"Jazz…"

"Please?!"

"…Fine."

"Actually, that sounds like a great idea," Seb suddenly said and I tilted my head to see him pulling Gabe down, forcing him to lay on his stomach and take off his shirt, though Gabriel wasn't protesting much. I watched as Seb straddled Gabe's butt and started scratching while Jazz sat in front of Chase, shirtless and boneless as his partner worked on his back.

It was then that I noticed the tattoos on Jazz and Gabriel's backs. Jazz looked like a pair of crossed tribal wings that came up over his shoulder and ended with the wing tips just coming up his jaw. It was an impressive tattoo given the complexity of the design and the fact that it took up his entire back. Gabe's was small, sitting between his shoulder blades. It looked like a pair of white wings and a rifle round where the two wings met. It also had strange but vicious clawed scars running through it. "Nice tattoos," I commented before groaning and dropping my head all the way down Eric dug softly into my shoulders.

"Careful, Eric," Jazz called teasingly as I kicked my legs in the air. "You'll get him addicted."

"Already am!"

"Well, then," Eric replied, scratching at the sides of my neck and making me shiver again. "As long as you pay me back I'll keep doing this."

I nodded faintly, not wanting to dislodge the hands feeling up my sensitive neck. "Whatever you want, big guy," I answered, voice muffled by Eric's thigh. "I can die happy now."

Seb laughed. "Careful, Alex. You may get more than you planned." I'm glad my face was hidden because it flamed up when someone noticed the sexual innuendo my words could be interpreted for. Not that I wouldn't mind Eric taking full advantage of that offer. I seriously needed to start checking out if he was gay and interested. "As for the tattoos," the doctor continued. "Gabe here hands them out like tokens of affection. We've all got at least one."

My head perked up again, eyes flying between the most stuck up pair, Seb and Chase. "Really?"

Chase nodded. "Yes. Though mine was acquired only because I was too inebriated to realize the folly of it."

"You haven't gotten it removed yet," Jazz pointed out.

The burnet-slash-blond sniffed delicately. "It has not become an inconvenience yet."

"I did piercings and tattoos while I was in the military," Gabe admitted, eyes closed and face blissed as his boyfriend continued to work on his scarred back. "I still do them."

I hummed in acknowledgment before sitting up and facing Eric. He was startled at my suddenly movement but didn't move away when I pressed my bare chest to his shirt and rested my chin on his shoulder before hiking up his shirt and pushing my hands underneath. "You really didn't think I'd be the only one feeling nice, hmm?" I asked the tense man, trailing my own blunt nails up and down his back.

Eric relaxed and scooted forward so he wasn't leaning against the cushions so much before putting his hands on my back once more. "You are one of a kind, Alex," he murmured in my ear and I grinned, shifting my knees where I straddled his lap—I'm not touching anything, I swear!—so I had the height to put my chin on his shoulder.

Behind me I heard Jazz gasp. "We should try that, Prowler!" he cried.

"What are you… Jazz!" I heard a crash and a thump and Chase's grunt and Jazz giggling.

"Your turn," Gabe grunted and Seb let out a yelp that turned into a purr.

My chest-heat died down to a glow that I loved and I was a bit surprised when a purr came from my own throat. It stuttered to a stop in my surprise because it's an inhuman sound no matter how these guys managed it so easily, but Eric moved a hand up to the nape up my neck and massaged there. The purr started up again and I closed my eyes, blindly feeling out Eric's back, massaging muscles and scratching smooth skin and soaking in the love I felt in his touch. My chest, definitely smaller than his, lifted up and down with each one of his breaths and I was thrilled to feel those muscles working against my own.

Mmm. I was going to need a cold shower tonight.

Chasing the Flame

Finally justice. I admit that court scene had spots that felt corny to me. The big le gasp moment when Alex's mother came in and when Eric punched Alex's father to name a few (I finally gave them names!). I don't care much. I'm happy Eric got to punch Alex cuz if I were to do a oneshot of the guys getting Alex's parents to sign the guardianship papers Eric wouldn't have been there to 'talk' to the father. So this is him getting his part of revenge. Yay! And of course Jazz cheers.

As for this last scene. I love back scratches. And the tattoos are significant. But later. In the next chapter actually. 'Cause we're actually going to start taking big steps in plot now. You're going to see 'Cons, badass fighting, and 'wtf is going on' moments. It's Memorial Day weekend in the story! Hint hint nudge nudge.

I'll leave pictures of Jazz's and Ironhide's tattoos on my profile if anyone is interested. Go check out sleepyoldvamp on DeviantArt! He's amazing!

Remember to leave a review and tell me what you think!


	10. Chapter 10

You guys are soooo frickin' lucky this chapter had no good breaking points. Over 8,000 words. Pah. Why am I so nice? Oh, that's right. Cuz I can hardly ever say no to people who ask nicely. Damn it. That'll get me in trouble someday. Oh well. Enjoy this SUPER long chapter, 'cause it's not happening again.

BTW, shit gets real. Huge plot movement. Deceptions. Fighting, both verbal and physical. Swearing. WTF moments. All here. ENJOY!

CTF

Back at school there was only minimal attention raised about my trial and what happened, mostly from the teachers, but that was fine. I was happy how things turned out and I was glad to share the good news even if no one really cared.

Ah, the life of a loner.

I put my textbooks in my locker, running over my mental planner in my head to see if I had any homework tonight. I didn't, which meant hanging out with my family. And that generally consisted of sparing with Gabe or watching him sketch out tattoo ideas, or talking and/or cooking with Seb, or dancing with Jazz if he visited, or doing whatever with Eric. I found myself sighing at the thought of the man and cursed myself for being a school girl. Grow up, Alex. Eric is a grown man and won't tolerate and childish…whatever I am to him.

I didn't even know. We definitely weren't just friends. All the back scratches and cuddling said otherwise. We definitely weren't brothers because we actually did flirt with each other. That had been interesting to do, teasing and flirting with the man and having him return the favor. And we definitely weren't boyfriends because I would _know_ when we reached that point. But we spent practically every moment together, talking, playing, or working in silence. Gabe joked the other day that where you could find either Eric or I the other was sure to be around the corner. It was…hard to describe just what we did to each other, but it certainly had me baffled and hesitating to take the final step and see if he was interested in a relationship.

Another sigh escaped me as I closed my locker and stood up. Memorial Day Weekend. Four days of no school. Awesome!

I stretched my arms above my head, backpack in one hand, before teetering off balance when a hand suddenly grabbed my butt. "Looking good, Alex."

A scowl fixed itself on my face as I turned and came face to face with Jess. "What do you want?" I demand, shrugging on my backpack and walking for the school doors, hoping he would accept my cold shoulder and leave me alone.

He didn't. Instead, he trotted after me. "I heard what happened to you and your dad. Man, I'm sorry." I didn't respond and Jess grabbed my arm. Uh, no. Yanking my arm free, I gave him a warning look but came to a stop anyway. "Look, I wanted to apologize for…last time."

My face dropped and shifted into an incredulous are-you-kidding-me expression. "You mean when you all ganged up on me and tried to brain me with a brick?"

Jess winced and ducked his head. "Yeah. That time. Look, Alex. I wasn't in my right mind and I was…well, you know."

"I'm afraid I don't."

The dirty blond looked up at me with a confused and searching expression. "I was feeling rejected," he elaborated slowly.

I glanced disinterestedly around the hall, hoping I would see one of my teachers and use them as an excuse to get out of this conversation. "Got told 'no' too many times?"

"No, Alex. I was feeling rejected because of you."

My gaze snapped back to Jess'. "I'm sorry," I said, shifting my weight and pointing a finger at my former friend. "What did you say?"

"You really didn't know?" Jess frowned, a hurt look in his eyes as he looked at me. "You never noticed?"

"Noticed what?" I demanded, getting impatient and a little worried on where this conversation was going.

"Dude, I love you." I blinked and stared at the teenager in front of me, words and thoughts failing me. Jess honestly looked wounded. "I tried…How could you not see it? I mean, what did I do wrong? I thought you… Really? Fuck it!"

I took a step back when hands suddenly clamped on either side of my face and something was suddenly crushed in my lips. And Jess was in my face. Kissing me. And then he bit my lip. Blindly, I reached up and grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back and away from him only for me to release him when he groaned in pleasure.

"What the hell, Jess?" I cried, wiping the back of my hand across my lips. My anger rose when I saw red blood smearing across my skin.

"What is your problem?" Jess shouted back.

I bared my teeth at him and hissed, "I'm not interested, Jess. Get that through your head."

"Boys." We turned to see a male teacher standing there with his arms crossed. He probably saw the whole thing. "Is there a problem here?"

"No," I bit out, wiping the blood from my lip again. "Excuse me."

I stormed out of the school and headed directly for the shop. The long walk was enough for me to calm my need to lash out at anybody who crossed me, but the sharp pain in my bottom lip was enough to keep me in a foul mood. Which was immediately noticed when I got to the shop. Eric followed me back to the washroom and waited as I rinsed out my mouth and cleaned my lip. "It was just some asshole at school," I told him. "He thought it would be alright to kiss me and decided to bite me while doing so."

Eric hummed as he came forward, taking the paper towel from my hand and tilting my chin up for him to take a look. "Don't look too bad," he murmured, dabbing my lip. "I'm guessing you told him to back off."

"Duh. He's one of the douche bags that tried raiding this place."

"Huh." Eric's thumb passed over my bottom lip and I watched his face closely as he just stared at my lips for a long moment before standing straight. "I think I might have a talk with this boy."

I huffed a laugh and linked my arm with his, walking out of the washroom. "He's not worth the time or the effort, Firebird. But I'm flattered. Truly." I batted my eyelashes up at the man and he smiled before smacking my rear, causing me to yelp.

"Go run the register. Seb isn't here today to run interference." I stuck my tongue out at him as I changed direction for the reception area, teasingly waving my fingers at him even as my cheeks flushed happily from our interaction. Eric grinned before shooing me off and I skipped to the reception area to mess around on the computer and settle customers.

It was a normal day, people coming in, people going out, mind numbing computer games.

That is until it was later in the evening where I would get up soon and turn off the OPEN sign. Nobody was in the waiting area since any car being worked on right now was going to be kept overnight to be reunited with their owners in the morning. So I was a bit startled when someone cleared their throat right in front of me.

I jerked my head up and stared at the man in front of me. The first thing I noticed were his purple eyes. Legit purple. I couldn't see any signs of contact lenses so I was left to accept the shade and move on to his hair. It was long enough to be put up in a ponytail, though the actual hair was something to do a double take on. It was mostly black with these thick white streaks that went from the edges of his face to disappear into his thick hair.

Okay, stop staring. Stop. It's rude.

I forced a smile. "Can I help you?"

And then he just stared. Rude. My smile dropped by small degrees the longer the man leaned against the counter and just traced his eyes over me with bored interest. My chest-heat chose then to come back and I was hard pressed to ignored it and the sharp pain in my back. It was a bit easier as he tilted his head to the side slightly and tapped his fingers to the countertop, showcasing the long deadly-looking claws. Ooookkkaaaayyyy….

"How intriguing…" the man murmured in a heavy Russian accent and I scowled, waving a hand in front of his face, acting casual no matter how my alarms were going off.

"If you're not here to get your car fixed I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sir."

"Marov Barrikada."

I blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"My name, Unemerged One." I jerked when one of those clawed hands wrapped around my wrists. I tried to yank my arm free, but I knew in an instant that he had one grip I wouldn't be able to fight. And while his hand was on my wrist like a cuff I could feel his nails pressing lightly into my skin and just by the solid and unbending feel of them I knew they were real claws that could do me harm. "Marov Barrikada. Please do me a favor and tell Ironhide that I was here."

WTF? "Okay, you need to leave," I snapped, bracing my feet against the foot well under the counter and heaved my arm back. "Get ou—OH, SHIT!" My curse rang in the near silence when the freak's grip on my wrist gave out sooner than I expected and I was sent tumbling backwards on the barstool. My back cracked against the ground, making the ache in it hurt worse, and I swore. "What the hell is your problem?" I shouted as I shot to my feet, ready to give the guy a piece of my mind only to find him gone. "What?"

"You alright, Alex?" Gabriel as he came over from the garage. "Did you fall over?"

"Some freak came in here," I told him as I righted my chair and dropped back in it, rubbing my wrist. "Weird looking guy started saying weird stuff."

"We get a few of those here every once in a while," Gabe assured me. "Did he say his name?"

I snorted and turned to look at him with an exasperated expression. "Oh, he did one better. He asked me to tell someone named 'Ironhide' that 'Marov Barrikada' had come to visit." My smile dropped when I saw Gabriel freeze, staring at me in shock. "What? What's wrong?"

"'Marov'?" he repeated stalking over to me, eyes hardening and fists clenching. "Where did you hear that name, Alex? Did Jazz tell you? If you're joking I'm going to kick your ass," he growled, looming over me.

I stared up at him with wide eyes as I leaned back in my chair. "What are you getting on my case for?" I demanded hotly, covering up a slight sliver of fear with anger. "I've never heard of that man or seen him before in my life!"

Gabriel's hands came down tightly on my shoulders and he shook me, getting in my face with a frightening intensity that I'd never had directed at me before. "What did he look like? Was he pale? Purple eyes?"

I nodded, reaching up to trying and push Gabriel's hands off of me. "Yes. Yes! Black and white hair, Russian accent, and wicked sharp claws."

Gabe's grip suddenly tightened. "Did he touch you? Where?" A hiss of discomfort left me when I showed him my wrist and he turned it roughly side to side, looking for any marks.

"Gabe, what are you so worried about? Do you know him?"

Just then Eric walked in, looking worried. "What's going on?"

The large men spun around, keeping a steely grip on my wrist. "Alex says a man came in here and wanted Ironhide told that Marov Barrikada had come by." My confusion and worry only deepened when shock and anger flashed across Eric's face before he went unreadable. They shared a long look, one I tried desperately to decipher but failed when Eric's face tightened in stress and Gabe growled.

"Alex, close up shop. We're going home," the ebony demanded, turning on heel with Gabriel right behind him, dragging me with him.

"Eric, Gabe, can you please tell me what's got you so freaked out?" I begged, jogging to keep from falling. "What's it about this Marov guy that's got you two so worried?"

"Don't worry about it, kid," Gabe grumbled, letting me go to stalk up to the second floor.

"'Don't worry'?" I repeated. "How can I not worry when you two are acting like this because _one guy_ came by? Eric!"

The grown man turned and seemed to be at the end of patience. "Alex, please just trust Gabe and I for now. We'll explain soon. But we need to get home and call the others."

"Others? You mean Seb and Jazz? What the hell, Eric?! What's got you and Gabe acting like we're about to be hunted down and killed? Talk to—" I bend over and gasp as my chest flashes white hot, the worst I can ever remember. It felt like my insides were melting and my back felt like a jagged knife was cutting a hole between my shoulder blades. For a long moment, it's all I can do to keep from falling over and air flowing in and out of my body until a hand comes to rest on my shoulder and I open my eyes to see Eric kneeling in front of me with worry filling his dark blue eyes.

"Please lock everything down," he whispers, running a hand along the side of my head until he's cradling the back of my head. "I promise I'm going to tell you everything tonight. _Everything_."

I search for any signs of deception for a long moment before I sighed and nodded. "Fine. But you better answer all of my questions, Eric Phoenix."

"I will." The relief he suddenly feels confuses me as he presses a kiss to my forehead and leaves me to go upstairs. I stare after him for a moment before shaking my head and moving to lock up the shop. My stomach flipped and my heart contracted painfully as I got a bad feeling about what was coming.

The car ride home was silent except for Gabriel's furious texting. For a while, I thought his screen was in danger of cracking. When we pulled up I followed quietly behind the two men, watching their tense body language and wondering for the hundredth time that night what was going on.

"Alex, can you go to your room for a little bit?" That was the last thing I expected to hear and Eric got a resigned look on his face when he saw my reaction. "Now is not a good time to fight me on this. Please just listen to me and go."

"You promised me answers," I protested.

"I know, but I have to talk to Seb, Jazz, and Chase first. Can you wait that long?"

My anger and indignation rose. "What's so important that you can't tell me the same time you tell them? Huh? C'mon, Eric! I thought you trusted me!"

Eric, who had been walking away from me, spun. "I do! I do trust you, Alex. But this is beyond you."

My teeth ground painfully. "Oh, so now you don't think I can handle myself."

Eric groaned and turned, massaging his temples and walking away. "I don't have time for your insecurities, Alex. Please. Just go to your room."

I gaped at the retreating back, hurt and offended. "My insecurities? No! This is about you keeping secrets from me. You can trust me. I can take care of myself. You don't need to worry about me," I pleaded, hoping a softer and unaggressive tone would get Eric to answer me. He didn't even look at me. "You know what? Fine. Have your secret meeting. But I'm going to work."

"What? No, you aren't."

I shook off the hand that tried to grab my arm, glaring back at Eric when he tried to stop me from leaving the house. "Yes, I am. My shift starts soon. And where do you get off trying to tell me what to do? You have no say in my life. You won't even tell me what's going on in yours, but you'll certainly tell everyone else!"

I could see his patience fraying in his eyes as the man took a deep breath to calm himself. "Alex. I'm only going to tell you one last time. Go. To your room."

My temper snapped and I got in his face. "Go. Fuck yourself," I spat before turning on heel and making for the door.

"Alexander Steek!" A strong hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, though I kept it to a half turn, glaring at Eric as he glared right back with icy fury. "You will listen to me and stay here. Do you understand?"

I growled, something that came out more menacing now that I suddenly had the ability to purr. "Stop acting like my father," I ground out, muscles tensing and twitching to pull myself free and get out of the house.

Our gazes held, battling each other's wills to see who would cave first and lose this entire fight. Even though I was dead set on winning, I felt myself slipping.

"Eric!" Both of our glares switched to Gabe from where he was waiting in the kitchen. He didn't seem bothered. "You need to see this," he told his friend, deadly serious as he stood by a laptop.

I used the opportunity to yank myself free and run out of the house, ignoring Eric's calls behind me. Fuck him and fuck his secrets. I needed to get out and clear my head instead of stewing in my room. I'd come back after work and go at it again because I was not about to forgive Eric that easily.

By the time I reached the diner I was calm enough to put up a façade and a smile for everyone to see. Well, most everyone.

My shift was coming to an end when Marsha came to my side and started helping me with washing the dishes. "Oh, you don't have to do that," I told her.

"I know," the old lady replied, adjusting his glasses with her wrist. "But sometimes, after I fight with Dan, I like to have someone there with me until I'm ready to talk."

"Fight…"

Marsha gave me a chiding look, bumping my hip with hers. "Dan is dense, but I'm a woman. We pick up on these things. So who'd you fight with? That hunk that's been coming to pick you up every night for the past while?"

"Marsha!"

"What? I'm old, not blind."

I snorted a laugh and shook my head. "Whatever." We slowly work through the mountain of dishes and the kind old lady is just silent as we work, waiting. And that eats at me. I don't want to be rude and making her wait is most certainly that. Besides, I could vent and get a second opinion. "His name is Eric, the one who's been picking me and the one I fought with. See…" I let it all pour out. First, I talk about my argument with Eric because that was what Marsha was expecting to hear, but once I started talking about how startled and frustrated I felt about the whole thing Jess came up and the fine result of that. Then my mother and how she lied about having lung cancer came up. All in all, I just dumped everything that I'd been in denial about bothering me came up.

"I…I don't want to sound ungrateful," I told my attentive listener. "I love how my life is. I'm so incredibly lucky that it's mind boggling. I have a…a family in those guys, but I know they're keeping something from me. Something big and bad enough that they freaked out and started locking down everything since that Marov guy showed up. It's…" I sighed and shook my head, blowing my drooping black bangs from where they were tickling my forehead. "I'm not expecting too much by wanting those answers, am I?"

Marsha hummed. "No and yes," she says unhelpfully, laughing at my dejected face. "Relationships and family are never easy, Alex. Your entire life you've grown up alone and for pretty much the last decade you've been on top of everything in your life. You knew what was happening and could even guess what was coming. You didn't have anything that could surprise you before you met Eric and the boys. Am I right?"

"Yeah, I guess." She did make sense. I always knew when my father was on a losing streak judging from the untouched bills or when my mother was feeling especially good because she would cook something. I always knew what was going on with my parents and with school, those two things making up my entire world.

"But now that you're with those boys you aren't sure about anything. You're off your game because you just shucked off all of your roots and stabilizers. I'm not saying you're not happy with your new place, but that it's going to take a while before all of you can believe that you're okay and safe. We're human beings, sweetheart. We're funny like that. Something about the subconscious mind or some confusing thing. But my original point is that this is all kind of overwhelming you and the fact that you now know secrets are being kept from you, when before you didn't have to deal with secrets and unknowns, was simply the straw that broke the camel's back." I frowned as I took in her words. Okay, those kind of sat right and rang true.

"I believe every person is entitled to their secrets," Marsha continued, drying a frying pan. "Even in family, but I also believe that Eric could've made better efforts to make sure you weren't so overwhelmed and that you could've waited a bit longer to get your answers. From what you've said you've known about this secret for quite some time. You could've waited a few more hours."

I sighed and nodded, acknowledging that truth. Then, I reached over and dragged Marsha into a hug. "Where have you been all my life, Marsha?"

The old lady giggled and patted my chest. "I've been here, sweetheart. Come on. Let's finish up these dishes and you can go home and apologize to your beau. Maybe even get some makeup sex?"

My face instantly felt like it was on fire as I gaped at the grinning old lady. "Marsha!" I croaked, rubbing my face furiously.

She laughed loudly and patted my head. "Just making sure you get home quickly."

Dan poked his head into the kitchen with a wry smile. "What's going on back here?"

"Nothing!" I exclaimed, busying myself with dishes again. When Dan laughed and left as I leaned down to hiss to Marsha. "It's one thing to think it, but another to have it said aloud."

Marsha nodded and grinned knowingly. "I know." I rolled my eyes and flicked water at her. She got a dangerous glint in her eye.

It was safe to say that I left the diner late and damp. Even with summer rapidly approaching I shivered in the night air, wishing I'd remembered to grab my jacket before storming out.

Speaking of Eric…

I looked around the parking lot of the diner and was a little hurt to see that Eric wasn't waiting to drive me home. Shit, I really did piss him off. Better start rehearsing my apology, I thought determinedly as I turned and began to walk the familiar route back home.

Listen, Eric, I'm sorry for what I said. It was wrong and cruel to compare you to my father and I'm sorry for that. You're a hundred times the man he is. And I'm also sorry for demanding answers like that. I could've waited but I let my temper get the better of me.

…Eh. Okay. But it sounds a bit too detached.

I'm sorry, Eric. I have no idea what came over me. I should've never snapped at you like that or stormed off. It was immature of me and mean…cruel…disrespectful…Shoot, what's a good word? Horrible? It was immature of me and a horrible thing to do to you. I know it's not really enough just to say I'm sorry, but I wish I could take back everything.

No. Adults have to live with their consequences. Changing the past is a childish ideal.

I sighed and began to turn words over in my head, not really paying attention to the world around me. At least not until my chest flared in god awful pain. I bit my lip to stifle any sound I made even as I tripped over my own feet and careened into a nearby wall. My back hurt like a sonovabitch and when I hunched over I felt something painful give and stretch underneath my skin, but didn't quite break my skin. A groan slipped from my throat as I clutched my chest, waiting for the pain to abate. It was slow and reluctant to do so, beating a fast pace that made me feel like I was panicking. Tomorrow I'd ask Seb to take me to the hospital. This was getting out of hand.

"That looks like it hurt," a male voice quipped, amusement dripping from his tone. My head lifted, ready to tell whoever it was to fuck off when I took in the teenager in front of me.

He was…alien. He looked about my age. His skin was blue, like he'd been frozen and suffered hypothermia, but he had these glowing, black, block stripes running up the sides of his exposed chest and down the top of his forearms. His hair looked almost white except for the slight purple hint to it and he had these black pieces of hair that resembled my bangs, slicked back with the rest of his hair. The eyes that watched me with sadistic mirth and excitement were glowing red almost like a demon. He was completely shirtless and without shoes, letting me see that he was very well built and muscled, sharing much the same body type that I had. In fact, the only piece of clothing he wore were these black skin tight pants with purple patches on either side of his hips. It left nothing to the imagination. And his hands, he had the same claws Marov did.

I straightened, feeling fear begin to take its hold in me at facing something unknown and very dangerous. "What the hell are you?" I asked, refusing to let my voice shake or go quiet.

The teen smirked and rocked back on his heels, grin edged with something dark. "My name is Rumble. And I bet you're hurting something fierce, huh? Yeah, sparks are always a bitch when they first show up."

"What are you talking about?" I eyed any escape routes and things I could throw back and halt Rumble if he chased me, which I think he would do.

Rumble pouted and propped a hand on his hip. "Oh, I guess those wimpy Autobots didn't tell you, did they? What's actually going on with you and around you."

"Like I care. Piss off. I'm going home." I turned and stalked off, tense to see what he would do about that.

"You're not going anywhere." For a second, I thought Rumble had somehow teleported in front of me because the blue freak looked exactly the same if it weren't for the red tinted hair, red patches instead of purple on his pants, and the black sleeveless tank top he wore. It clung to his every muscle as he crossed his arms and watched me lazily. "Do you really think it's going to be that easy?"

"Nothing's ever that easy," I shot back, turning slowly so I could see both of them. "What do you two want with me?"

"Your spark," Rumble answered, a grin on his face as he flexed his arms and claws. Claws that could no doubt tear through my chest.

"Your death," the red look-alike seconded, dropping his relaxed stance as he watched me back up. "Look. Just surrender and this'll be ten times easier."

I snorted and glanced between the two, trying to determine who the bigger threat was. "Surrender isn't in my vocabulary." I paused once more to check the distance between me and them and how far the ten foot fence was behind me. "But retreat is." With that I spun and jumped, latching on to the chain links and hauling myself up as fast as I could. I flipped sloppily over the top, kicking off the hand that grabbed my calf before booking it down the alley as fast as I could, heart racing at a faster pace than my feet, but only by a little. Rumble and his friend cursed and I heard the sound of the fence shaking briefly, but I didn't bother looking back to see how far back they were. That was a waste of speed and time, both I knew I needed very much right now.

I had the advantage of knowing where I was going. I spent my whole life wandering these streets and playing 'explorer' in them. My two pursuers were insanely fast, claws brushing the back of my shirt within a matter of seconds after we began our race and they probably would've taken me to the ground if I didn't suddenly drop and slide through the small hole in the wooden fence we were barreling towards. A hysterical laughter left me when I heard them slam into the obstruction hard, but that died when I heard someone yelling above me.

I looked up to see another blue being, this one older than the other two with white hair and red streaks and no markings on his body. On his chest he wore a little half jacket that wasn't designed to reach all the way and was held in place by two thin straps. His voice grated on my ears as he shouted at how incompetent Rumble and 'Frenzy' were even as he kept pace with me on the rooftops, glaring down at me like an insect. Great. A third one.

My mind thought furiously on where I could go and lose these creeps and came up with a rough plan. Couldn't follow me on rooftops if I was inside, right?

The third one struggled to keep me in sight with me using as many corners and covers as possible to try and shake him, but he stayed right on my tail much to my dismay. He was still there as I pounded into an old factory and I stopped in the middle of the room, casting a look behind me to see if he followed. I couldn't hear any sounds over my rough breathing and was just beginning to relax when I heard glass shatter above me and I looked up in time to see the third one falling through a skylight 30 feet above my head, apparently having jumped through it.

I was ready for him to go splat on the ground when his descent slowed. And then I saw the wings sticking out of his back. Giant bat wings. He smirked as he lightly touched down, unbothered by the glass shard littering the floor. "Did you really think you could outrun me, the fastest flier of all the Decepticons?"

I shrugged and gulped for breath. "It's not really in me to give up until I'm dead, you know?" I asked before turning on heel and running again. Behind me, I heard this weird thrum sound, like someone tried using a broken accordion and the only thing that saved me from getting shot was my chest-heat choosing that moment to make itself known again, sending me crashing to the floor. I watched in horror as the metal forklift that got hit came on in a bright series of lights and loud sounds before dying down, smoking.

"That would've been you if my null ray had hit you," the man purred silkily. "Paralyzed and at my mercy. Such a delicious thought."

My back arched, agony spreading through my body as it felt like it was splitting open. "If you say so," I grunted hoarsely before rolling over and stumbling to my feet, lingering pain and heat be damned. I wasn't about to die.

"Starscream, you fool!" a voice roared behind me as I gained my rhythm again and ran out deeper into the factory. "His wings are about to emerge! Kill him before that happens or I'll have your head." Joyous. A fourth one. Wait, make that five. I skidded and quickly changed directions when Marov appeared out of the dark, silent as a ghost.

"Son of a bitch!" I gasped as I hurdled over a conveyer belt before jumping and grabbing a hanging chain, which was probably used to lift heavy equipment, letting my momentum swing me up and on to a catwalk. Behind me I heard the thrum of 'Starscream's' null ray, no doubt hitting where I'd been moments ago.

"Stop moving, insect!" that scratchy voice demands and I felt the air behind me move just as my feet touched the metal floor of the catwalks. I ducked and rolled, and saw briefly that a whole section of the catwalk had been cut through and sent to the ground. That was plenty of motivation to get up and running again. I had high ground now and hopefully that would be a slight advantage despite the fact that the screechy flying one was in the air.

"Not on your life!" I yelled back, running forward as fast as I could. Below my feet I could see the blue and purple form of Rumble. He grinned up at me before turning into a blur of blue and appearing next to the support of the section of catwalk I was about to cross. I watched in growing horror as he pulled back a fist and punched the support, shattering it and causing the catwalk in front of me to collapse and fall. Who the fuck were these people?! They flew, were really fast, had funky weapons, and could apparently punch through metal. I was fucking screwed!

But that didn't stop me from taking a running leap, hoping to jump over the collapsed catwalk and keep going. I actually think I would've at least caught the edge with my hands if something hadn't knocked into me midair. I cried out as I flipped end over end through the air before bouncing painfully off of something metal and solid.

A groan left my throat as I slowly turned over, body aching. I was just getting to my hands and knees when someone kicked me in the side. Hard. I shouted incoherently as I literally flew through the air and hit something else, falling to the floor in a heap. I gasped and hissed as I moved, everything protesting any movement, but I knew I had to get up before this new player got to me.

He was the leader of all of these freaks. I just knew it by the way the other four appeared and fell in behind him. He was taller than all of them, maybe 6'2" or 6'4". He had the same icy blue sky and wore this grey, skin-tight jumper suit that seemed modest until you saw that the neck line dipped all the way down to below his navel. He had this odd light blue design on his upper chest and these weird markings over his red eyes with black eyeballs instead of the normal white. His white and icy blue hair was pushed back and his claws gleamed even in the dark.

The leader took his time sauntering towards me, a pleased smirk on his lips. "I am not impressed," he told me in a low enough voice to rival Gabriel. "I expected more from Prime's new Autobot."

"Go fuck yourself," I spat before gasping and curling on my side, writhing in pain as my chest and back lit up like the Fourth of July.

"Such spirit," the leader guy purred before I found myself being lifted up by my throat. It was a fight to try and clear the agony of my back and melting chest, but I managed it as best as I could, clawing at the hand around my throat and kicking out. "But so fragile." My eyes bulged when the guy's free hand reached into space and the biggest sword I've ever seen materialized in his hand, and he twirled it like a toy. "Give my best to your brethren in the Well, pest." Then he was swinging that sword towards me.

I could only stare in horrified shock as it came closer, until there was a familiar hiss-pop sound. The new guy cursed and dropped me, jumping away just in time to avoid a giant red ball of something. I looked in the direction of the shot and gasped. "Eric?" I cried out.

Because there he was. Except he was on fire. Or he had fire coming out of his back and fanning out like red and blue wings. He had on a retro spiked blue jacket I've never seen before with a white shirt on underneath that and black jeans on and his hands were bathed in red flames.

Gabriel stood at his right, tan ragged wings coming out his back. He had camo army pants on and black combat boots and a white wife beater. He also had the oddest pistols I've ever seen in my life, smoking and glowing red.

Jazz was on Eric's other side, black tribal tattoo wings fluttering and waving in an unfelt wind and dressed more in a fashion similar to the freaks I'd been running from. He had black pants that clung to his every curve and a loose silver top that left his chest for everyone to see. His sunglasses were gone and replaced by a solid blue band and from his neck hung a bling-worthy necklace with a pendent that was simply a number 4. A pair of huge headphones were over his ears with the band hanging by the back of his neck.

Prowl stood by Jazz, stiff posture and authoritative. He had on a true black jump suit, but had actual armor plates over his chest, shoulders, back, and hips. A long rifle sat easily in his hands as six massive panels of metal hung suspended in air just off his back.

Ratchet was next to Gabriel, in glowing pale green robes the reminded me of a gi but more flowing and accented by white swirls as metallic eagle wings fanned out behind him.

They looked all completely badass and ready for a fight and for a moment I forgot that I was hurting as I smiled in relief. Gabe pouted a bit and lifted his guns, changing their target as the blue leader guy moved away from me. "Sorry, Prime. I missed."

Eric smirked a bit. "Just don't do it again." Then his smirk died and the red flames in his hands and wings grew brighter and hotter. "Megatron. Honoring us with your presence once more I assume?"

Oh, so that was his name. Why did they all have such weird names? My thoughts were derailed as my back surpassed my chest on the agony scale. I tried to keep quiet, but my falling back and reaching desperately for my back drew attention. Megatron sneered. "Starscream. Barricade. Kill the pest before his wings emerge."

"Jazz, Ratchet!" Eric shouted as he rushed forward.

I really wish I could've stayed to see how the fight turned out, but Mr. Crazy and Screechy was turning that rifle that was attached to his arm, I assumed it was the null ray, in my direction and Marov was running at me, black orbs of crackling electricity gathering in his hands. "Shit," I muttered to myself before rolling under the conveyer belt Megatron had kicked me into. I refused to cry out in surprise or fear when the spot I'd been in second ago exploded in sound and light. Instead, I forced myself to army crawl forward and away from the sounds of fighting, biting my lip hard enough to make it bleed when it felt like a dozen knives were carving up my back. When I reached the other side of the conveyer belt I saw a door that opened up to the outside world.

My world narrowed down to just that objective. If I could get to the door than I could be safe. I just needed to stand up and run. Left foot, right foot, left, right.

"Alex!"

I turned at the sound of my name, looking over my shoulder long enough to see Jazz get knocked flying from where he was trying to restrain Starscream, freeing the blue freak to level his null ray directly and fire. There was no way I could move fast enough to dodge.

My scream froze in my throat as the shot slammed into my back, sending what felt like millions of volts of electricity through my body. I was vaguely aware of slamming into the ground, rolling and tumbling uncontrollably as my body convulsed violently as liquid fire poured through my veins. And no matter how I screamed at my body it wouldn't twitch.

I could only watch helpless as Marov slipped past Sebastian's guard and came at me, a lone dark crackling orb in on hand.

"ALEX! MOVE!"

The agony in my back reached a peak before something finally gave and tore, bringing relief and a rush of power and energy to my battered body. Suddenly, Marov wasn't moving as fast as I'd first thought and when I told my body to roll up into a kneel it did. And it listened when I told it to raise my hands, grabbing a surprised Marov by the neck and body slamming him to the ground. I don't know who was more shocked, me or Marov as we stared at each other for a small beat.

But then the Russian was generating another orb and thrusting it at my chest. Some knowledge I didn't even know existed guided my body through the motions of flipping backwards into a back hand spring, using my new back appendages to give me some air and space to do the maneuver. No sooner had I finished putting space between the Russian and I then he was up and rushing me again, hands crackling with black lightning and a dark look on his tan face as three black appendages sprouted from his back, much like Chase's but more shadows than metal. I noticed instantly that he was able to move twice as fast, but before I panicked that ancient knowledge guided my hands straight out from my shoulders, grabbing for something.

And two yellow blades as long as my elbow-to-fingertips materialized in my hands much like Megatron had summoned his big ass sword. A feral grin touched my lips as I brought my blades up in a defensive position, ready for Marov.

When we collided I was reminded of my dances with Jazz, reading each other's slightest movement and moving to compliment it except in this sense I was hurrying to stop Marov's grabs and punches. I struggled to match my speed to his, lashing out and kicking in a flowing manner that I had never found before, not hesitating to slash and stab my familiar-yet-not-familiar knives at my opponent. And I did okay, fending him off, but it was obvious that he had speed and experience as he landed a few glancing blows that my ancient knowledge couldn't warn me about fast enough. Each touch, no matter how slight, hurt like a bitch as electricity coursed through my body. But I'm proud to say that I landed a few hits myself, managing to slice his cheek and get him good on the underside of his forearm as we continued our rapid spinning dance.

I'd never felt so powerful.

I grinned and spun in a roundhouse kick, getting Marov in the stomach and sending him stumbling. I was about to follow him and see if I couldn't end the fight when Megatron's growling voice shouted over the sounds of fighting and cursing. "Decepticons, retreat! This isn't over, Prime—not by a long shot!"

I watched in surprise as Marov frowned, but seemed to call the shadows to wrap around him and make him fade from sight. Slowly, as the sounds of the quiet factory reached me, deafening after the loud fighting, I relaxed my stance and dropped my knives down to my side.

"Alex!" I turned and saw Eric, still flaming, hurdling over a conveyer belt, eyes only on me as he hurried over, dousing the flames on his hands before he grabbed me. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Ratchet!"

"I'm right here," Sebastian told him, coming up on my right, his hands glowing pale green as he moved them over my body.

"They didn't do anything to you, did they?" Eric asked, looking me over frantically.

I grinned at the man. "Hey, Eric?"

His attention was immediately back on me. "Yes?"

I pointed at the flaming wings behind him, careful to keep my knife away from anything it could cut. "You're on fire," I said obviously, starting to laugh.

Eric heaved a sigh, resting his hands on my shoulders as he dropped his head. I chortled at him, patting his hand carefully as aches I didn't even know about disappeared underneath Sebastian's hands. "I was so worried about you," he finally said as the three others came up to us.

My smile dropped at that and I leaned my head against one of the hands on my shoulders. It came up and cradled my head in response. "I'm sorry," I replied, a whole wealth of emotion and meaning behind it. I'm sorry for worrying you. I'm sorry for getting in this mess in the first place. I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm sorry for saying those things. _I'm sorry_.

Eric looked up and held my eyes and I was so relieved to see understanding there. He knew what I was saying. "I'm sorry too." And I could see the several apologies in those two words. My smile came back to show him my forgiveness.

But then the knives in my hands dissolved into gold dust and I felt whatever was on my back falling away in the same manner. I looked down in time to see my regular dirty clothes settling back on my body as gold dust settled down at my feet. And with the last speck of dust falling away the exhaustion hit.

I stumbled as the urge to just let my legs give out and close my eyes hit me. "Whoa," I mumbled, eyes wide in surprise as Eric stopped me from moving further.

"Ratchet?" Eric asked uncertainly.

Seb grunted as he straightened. "He's all healed up. Nasty null ray blast on his back, but nothing bad. He's just ready to sleep. First time emerging his wings and fighting on top of that. I'm actually surprised he hasn't collapsed yet." I swatted at the hand that came up to poke me, unsettling my fragile balance.

"I'll sleep when I get home," I mutter. "I refuse to be carried."

"It'll be quicker if you just let us take you," Eric points out. "You can sleep sooner."

I swayed and tiredly thought that over as my eyes slowly drooped before leaning forward and resting my head against Eric's chest. "Fine." No time was wasted in scooping me up bridal style. I snuggled into Eric's chest, wrapping my arms around his neck. And I couldn't help but notice that despite my proximity to the now blue wings I didn't feel any heat from them other than a slight rise in the warmth Eric carried around with him all the time. Curious, I reached out a hand and trailed a few fingers through the flickering flames. I wasn't burned. It felt like I was just running my hand under really warm water. But the way Eric stiffened and waved his wings back had me pulling my hands away. "Sorry," I mumbled, tucking my head down as another wave of exhaustion hit me and carried me to black oblivion.

CTF

Halfassed ending is halfassed. Honestly, I need to stop making Bee pass out. He needs to be strong!...Eh. I'll do it later. Story of my life. My excuse is that everyone passes out after their wings come out.

Speaking of, we finally know what's been going on between the guys! Well, mostly. Explanation next chapter. I'll post necessary pictures for you guys to see what I'm talking about, but I'm going to tell you now some of the descriptions here come from me because sleepyoldvamp simply didn't have pictures of fanfictions covering these details. Mainly Prowl's appearance, all clothing except for Prime's, and Rumble and Frenzy. I did mix in G1 factor's into their appearances. Jazz's Number 4 bling, Prowl's wings look like doorwings, etc. Plus bayverse influences such as Prime's flames, Ironhide's big guns, Ratchet's coloring, etc. It goes on and on.

Well, tell me what you think of the chapter. I love feedback!

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on deviantART

Plot and OCs © me


	11. Chapter 11

Hello. It's Friday! Woo! Another chapter for you. Here you go with background explanation of Cybertronians and why the hell they're on Earth and what's going on. PLUS WE FINALLY GET TO SEE WHAT BEE LOOKS LIKE ALL BADASS WITH WINGS! YEEEESSSSSS!

Transformer © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DA

Plot and OCs © me

When I woke up I didn't think anything was wrong or out of place. In a literal sense nothing was. So I took my time stretching, rolling over, hugging my blankets to my body to fight off a chill, and trying to fall back asleep. Normally, the second I felt myself waking up I would get up and get ready for school, dragging Eric out of bed and putting a cup of coffee in his hand because that man was not a morning person. But some little voice in the back of my head whispered that I could sleep in and I felt tired to boot. Extremely tired. That in itself was a little strange; I was a light sleeper but most times I could just acknowledge what woke me in the night and go back to sleep easily. On occasion, I would wake up tired for no reason and I wondered if it was because I had dreamed or if something—or some_ones_, Gabe Seb—was especially noisy that night. Anyway, it made me want to go back to sleep for however long I needed or could manage.

At least that was the case until my brain helpfully supplied memories. I sat up straight, blinking at my bedroom wall and wondering if I was going insane. Was that all a dream? If so I had a more…creative mind than I originally thought. Blinking away the last vestiges of the need to sleep, I got up and reached for my clothes, glancing at the clock as I did so. Three in the afternoon.

I instantly started rushing. Why did the guys let me sleep in? We had the shop to take care not to mention it was just stupid to sleep in that late.

…Unless my dream really wasn't a dream.

Gah. My head hurt trying to comprehend the reality of that.

Just…go find the guys and ask them. If I got crazy looks than it was a dream. If not than we may have just stepped into a very exciting and dangerous world.

I was pulling on a simple yellow T-Shirt with a pair of sweats when I walked out of my bedroom barefoot. If they let me sleep in this late than it was kind of obvious we weren't doing anything today and I dressed accordingly. The house was eerily silent as I made my way to the kitchen and living room. There was always someone in those two rooms, but I was a bit disconcerted to find it empty. Maybe they did go to the shop… Better check the rest of the house.

I was already turning to see if their bedrooms were occupied when I felt a vibration through the floor. Crouching, I rested a hand on the carpet floor and waited for a moment. Sure enough, I was able to detect faint voices reaching my ears. And the only place that made it hard for anyone in the rest of the house to hear was the basement. Destination chosen, I padded down a hall and opened up the solid wood door that revealed a flight of steep wooden steps. Sounds of sparing and taunting became more easily heard and I smiled a bit at hearing Gabe and Eric ribbing each other before treading down the stairs.

When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I gaped. Oh. Eric and Gabe were sparing. It's just they had the exact same wings and clothes on that I saw last night. As I watched Eric lunge, trying to grab Gabe with his flaming hands, Gabriel leapt out of the way, with a helpful flick of his ragged wings to get him airborne slightly, and pulled up his funky, red, alien guns. I thought Eric was actually going to get shot when the dark haired man waved a hand, controlling a stream of lightning quick fire to attack Gabriel's stance.

I stood and watched, resisting the urge to whistle lowly lest I draw attention to myself. They were moving faster than I'd ever seen them before, moving with fluid brutal strength. I found myself standing in awe at the power they wielded with easy control.

After a long moment, I must've tipped them off somehow because Eric leapt back and waved his non-flaming hand to call a stop to the match. Then he turned to me and I could see the apprehension on his face as he watched me for a reaction and seeming to brace for anything. I smiled at the thought that I would give a negative reaction to this before waving a hand at their wings and appearances. "So I guess last night did happen," I stated, not asking.

Gabriel snorted and I turned to see him shrugging his shoulders, his wings molting away in tatters and his army clothes changed back into jeans and a dark T-Shirt. "You bet your ass it did," he rumbled.

"Cool. So, do I get an explanation now?" I looked to Eric as I said this and I watched as he relaxed his wariness, looking at me in hope and pride this time as his wings disappeared and his retro blue jacket and clothes faded into shorts and a white beater.

"You might want to sit down," Eric said, waving to one of the benches of the workout machines that circled the sparing mat. He waited until I sat myself on the bench press machine before sitting himself as Gabe leaned against the mirrored wall. "It's a bit of a long story, but everything I'm about to say is true, alright?"

My smile was meant to reassure Eric. He seemed to be in his element as well as being way out of it. "Got it, Firebird. Lay it on me."

The dark haired man took a deep breath before beginning his story.

Chasing the Flame

Chasing the Flame

Millions of years ago, there was once a planet very much like Earth. Except. In place of plants, water, and humans, this planet was covered in metal, solvents, and Cybertronians. Cybertronians, immortal beings, are very similar to humans in many ways, except for a few extra bits. They are capable of changing their appearance when they call out their extra appendages; their wings. Each set of wings is unique to their bearer, giving them power, speed, and abilities, and their soul—their spark. Though, a few major visual differences between humans and Cybertronians are their blue skin and their natural claws.

On this metallic planet, Cybertron, Cybertronians lived in peace. But, of course, happiness—or peace in this case—is fleeting. Tensions began to rise between the lower classes and the corrupt upper classes. Megatron rose up and led the revolution to throw out the rich and mighty who abused their power, creating the faction called Decepticons. But those in power wouldn't go down without a fight. Blood and sparks were lost in droves. Whole cities, even the city-states, were torn down and turned into singed, metal husks.

Cybertron was being torn apart.

It was dying.

The fighting continued for centuries and even on into millennia. And people change. Megatron changed. As his kill count rose and his mind became more and more unstable, his cause for fighting became warped. He no longer fought for those with barely enough to survive while the rich swam in luxury. He didn't stop the war when he killed the council of city-state leaders. He kept fighting. He wanted to rule over all of Cybertron as a dictator.

And some Cybertronians saw this. They saw how blood-thirsty the Decepticon leader had become and moved to resist him, to stop him before he caused irreversible damage. And thus the Autobot cause was created and the war took a deadlier turn as Megatron and his forces were met with a challenge that could actually stop him. The number of sparks returned to the Well rose as each side entered a stalemate. They couldn't gain an advantage over each other and Cybertronians were dying in the hopes of ending an endless war. But then Megatron got the idea in his head that if he could seize the Allspark, the item that gives Cybertronians life, he could cripple the Autobot army by taking away the source of new recruits.

When the Autobots found out, they turned to the six Autobots the Allspark had made what would've been the city-leaders if the city-states had been around still. They turned to these Cybertronians because one of the city-leaders' responsibilities is protecting the Allspark. It is their job to make sure the Allspark is never misused, so when they were made aware that Megatron was after the Allspark there was nothing that could've stopped them from what they did next.

They stole the Allspark.

They left Cybertron altogether.

And landed on a backwater organic planet where they hid themselves and the Allspark. They hid themselves so well that their sparks went dormant and their Cybertronian heritage passed through generations of human bloodlines. And no one was the wiser. No one knew where the Allspark was. No one knew where its protectors were.

Until Megatron somehow tracked the Allspark down to Earth. And the protectors' sparks were reawakened and they were called to protect the Allspark once more.

Chasing the Flame

Chasing the Flame

"So where is this Allspark?" I asked, swinging my legs as my head buzzed with so much information.

"We don't know."

My far off gaze snapped to Gabriel before I looked to Eric in incredulous surprise. "You…We are supposed to protect this thing and we don't even know where it is?"

Eric sighed and shook his head. "It's somewhere in this city. We've spent years looking for it, but the protectors before us must've done something strange because we haven't had any luck."

"Good thing is that the 'Cons can't find it either," Gabriel added.

"Uh-huh. Those blue freaks. Right. What's their beef anyways? I've never seen any of them before in my life."

"They probably wanted to kill you before your wings emerged." Gabe shrugged. "Stop us from recruiting another Autobot before you could defend yourself. We've been able to detect your spark on and off again over the past month and a half. That was the heat you felt in your chest, by the way. So they knew you were one of us for a while now."

"We didn't think they'd go after you," Eric informed me, looking down at his hands as he clenched them. "You've been around us or around other humans constantly enough that they never would've had a chance to get at you once they sensed your spark. We…We never would've thought they would've come to our base in broad daylight to send a message." I was assuming they were talking about Marov, or Barricade as I'd heard him called. That was the only reason I could think that set them off so quickly. But base?

"'Base'?"

"The Autoshop," Mr. Mountain answered with a small smile. "There's a reason we never let you upstairs. Where do you think we would keep all of our tech and equipment?"

I blinked at him, mind spinning at the possibilities of that statement. New tech? Oh, boy. I want. "I hadn't gotten that far yet." Gabe nodded understandingly. "So where do I fit into all of this? You guys obvious have this…rhythm…routine…whatever going on between all of you. Where do I go?"

Eric unclenched his hands and looked back up at me. The wealth of emotions in those sea blue eyes was hard to read and left me wondering what was going through his head. "If you are not adverse to the idea," he started standing up from where he sat and walking over to me, exuding this authoritative and regal air. "I would like for you to fight with us. It is our responsibility to protect the Allspark from beings like Megatron, and, with just us six on Earth, we could use every bit of help we can get." I couldn't help but think it was slightly dramatic that he stopped just short of where I was curled up on the workbench and held out his hand, but I'd let him run his show. "Will you fight with us as an Autobot?"

I huffed a laugh and smiled up at him before taking his hand and standing up. "Like I'd miss this for anything. Count me in."

Eric shared my smile, warm, large hand closing over mine like a blanket and I couldn't find it in myself to be apprehensive about my decision. Maybe it was because all of this hasn't sunk in yet. But that didn't mean I wasn't excited about exploring this new realm of possibilities. Yeah, I was almost killed last night simply because of what I was, but the ability to fight and do some good for an entire world just sat right with me. I could actually be useful and do good. And if I got to kick ass and do it with Eric and my family then that was just bonus.

I yelped when Eric suddenly yanked my arm, causing me to stumble forward and onto the sparing mat. When I turned back to ask him what his deal was, he just sat down where I'd been a second ago and crossed his arms with an amused smile on his face. "Your training starts now," he told me. "Ironhide."

Turning, I saw Gabriel step onto the mat, a predatory smile on his face as he cracked his knuckles. "Gladly, sir."

"Training?" I repeated, stepping lightly back and to the side. "But I'm already trained. I can kick ass just fine!"

Gabe laughed and shook his head, bringing his arms up in a classic boxing position as he circled with me. "Yeah right, kid. You couldn't even take down Sebastian right now."

My face heated at the insult and I raised my arms in a ready position. "You seem pretty confident for someone who's only seen me fight once."

"I don't need to see more. I've been fighting for longer than you've been alive, brat. And I can tell you're nothing special. You wouldn't last ten seconds in a real fight."

I struggled to cool my temper, breathing deep as my eyes narrowed. "And what would you call last night then, huh? My fight with Marov seemed to be going on longer than ten seconds."

"You had your Deep Memories helping you, kid. Plus that was the first time you've fought with him. I can tell you that the next time you face him he'll fry you like an egg." I growled, but didn't stop my circling. I wouldn't lash out in anger. I would lose before I even moved if I did that and I knew I would be hard pressed to even bring Gabe to the floor let alone win the fight. It baffled me when Gabriel nodded, a satisfied gleam in his eye, though I have no idea why he felt that. "Tell you what, kid. If you can take me down here and now you won't have to go through training. I swear." A smile spread across my face at the idea. "Come on, Alex. Hit me with your best shot."

"Gladly."

…

I was on my back not thirty seconds later.

I wheezed as I glared up at where Gabe knelt by my side, the hand he'd used to body slam me pressed lightly to my chest. "Good effort," he complimented, patting my heaving chest. "But you're still going to need training."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I muttered, climbing to my feet. "I get it."

"No, I don't think you do." My head turned at Gabriel's serious tone and I watched him cross his arms and he got this cold look in his hazel eyes. "We'd die for you, Alex. We'd fight through whole legions of Decepticons and keep going until our very last breath for you. Not because you've got shiny wings like us and have a spark but because we're family." I was reminded of the conversation I'd had with him in the garage once. About his little brother, Cliff, and about family. In his eyes, I could almost see the pain and the determination to keep from losing his family ever again. I couldn't quite comprehend the idea of someone dying for me, but I chose to take Gabriel's word for it.

"And right now you're the weakest of all of us. I know you don't want to hear that, but it's true. You have no experience or knowledge of how to wield anything in your repertoire. The 'Cons know this, which means they're going to be gunning for you. They know what we'd do for one another and know that you're easy leverage. I'm telling you right now that you're not going out on patrol with us for many months and you're most certainly not going to be fighting any 'Cons. It's my job—all of our jobs—to train you into a warrior that can go toe to toe with the best of the 'Cons. Because they're going to be here. They're all coming. And we're not going to lose you simply because you lacked training. Do you understand?"

I sighed and nodded, dropping my head and rubbing my hair. "Yeah," I said softly as I imagined what the next few months were going to be like. Constant training and sparing. I was going to push myself to learn all of this as fast as I could because I wasn't going to let them go fight without me when I could possibly help and keep them from getting hurt. Thank god summer vacation was just around the corner. I would have plenty of free time and opportunity to practice. But I was going to be out there with them by Christmas. 7 months. It took me at least 2 years to get my karate black belt, the shortest duration I've ever had to train for, but I would do it in the time. "I get it, Gabe."

There was a long beat of silence before I heard more than saw the large man shift his weight. "Good. Now, first things first, we need you to take your wings out."

"Simple enough," I responded, straightening my posture. "How do I do that?"

Mr. Mountain shrugged and pointed at me. "Well, there's a chance that you might be able to call them out on your own like Eric is able to." My eyes instantly went to where Eric was lounging on the bench press, silently asking him for advice.

"It's a mental thing," he started out, eyes looking at the ceiling as if he was struggling to put this into words. "It's something you're not even aware of, but, if you're like me, you are holding this control over something. You're holding yourself back from something. Do you get what I'm saying?"

I frowned, trying to put his words to an actual physical feeling. "Maybe," I murmured before turning my attention inward. If I was holding back something like wings it would be something I should find easily. I mean, I have held back before. When I was learning taekwondo, my sensei would sometimes pair me with younger learners and tell us to spar. It was hard to keep from lashing out with all of my speed and strength then, so I should be able to find where I was controlling my wings pretty easily. But, after a minute of searching, I shook my head and looked to Eric apologetically. "I don't think I have control over them like that."

Eric shrugged and smiled. "That's fine. I'm actually the only one of us that can do that. Everyone else is 'situational aware', as I like to say."

I frowned. "What do you mean by that?" I stiffened when I suddenly felt the vibration of feet pounding towards me through the sparing mat. It was only a desperate dive forward that allowed me to avoid Gabriel's charging form.

"It means you've really got to believe you need your wings. Like if you were fighting," the towering giant explained as he casually changed his direction to face me. "Which gives me the perfect excuse to beat the ever living shit out of you."

My eyes widened a bit at the threat as I came to my feet in a deep defensive stance. "I like my shit! No need to beat it ou—Oh, fuck!" I dove again when Gabriel charged once more, but this time he managed to grab my ankle and yank me back and up. "Oh, this is going to hurt," I muttered as Gabriel held me upside down by my ankle and he only laughed before _swinging me and slamming me against the ground_. I gagged as the air left me before rolling to the side to avoid a curb stomp. "I'd really like to stop! I don't want to fight!" I told him, backing up quickly and watching as those ragged tan wings appeared once more with the army fatigues.

"The 'Cons won't stop, Alex," Mr. Mountain told me grimly. "And neither will I."

I whined as he raised a fist before resolving myself to fighting as best as I could. My hand slapped aside the massive fist that was moving at inhuman—Cybertronian—speed. I couldn't stop the follow up punch to my gut and I stood hunched over, holding my aching body and trying to catch my breath. At least I was until hands grabbed my head and brutally slammed my face into a raised knee.

As I stumbled back, boggled by the pain and trying to stop the bleeding from my nose, I realized how utterly outclassed I really was by a battle-ready Gabriel. I couldn't even defend myself against him and I knew he wasn't trying to outright kill me…right?

Blinking away my shock as brought up my arms again, focusing on Gabriel stalking towards. "Mother fucker," I gasped, spitting out the blood in my mouth.

"Bring out your wings, Alex," he ordered before throwing another punch. I caught it in my arms, using the leverage to brace a foot against his rock hard thigh and lash the other one up to his chin. But apparently I was moving too slow because he used the speed provided by his wings to catch my foot in his free hand, squeezing it hard. I cried out as I felt the delicate bones in my foot being crushed and ground together before launching myself up, sliding myself up over his shoulder and wrapping a leg around his neck, squeezing and trying to free my caught foot.

Gabriel just chuckled and I felt his wings move the air behind me. A yelp escaped me as we suddenly moved upwards at an alarming pace. I was too focused on holding onto Gabe to keep from falling to realize we couldn't go up forever and a grunt left my throat when I was rammed into the ceiling. Then the world spun as Gabriel untangled me from his neck and threw me to the ground where I tried my best to stop my descent. I got a jarred shoulder and a throbbing wrist for my trouble and I still forced myself to get to my feet as Gabe landed lightly on the mat once more.

The aches weren't all that bad, but I was constantly aware of them in the back of my mind as I watched Mr. Deadly Mountain stroll forward with an amused smirk on his face. He was playing with me. That realization made my heart drop. Shit, I had no chance against him. No chance whatsoever. I wasn't strong or fast enough to beat him.

That thought struck a cord inside me. A cord I didn't even know I had and I felt the faint vibration of it echoing throughout my body before my back opened. I felt it when the new ability hit me like a train, like liquid energy poured right into my veins.

My mind instantly adapted to the new appendages behind me and what they were reporting, temperature, air movement, and such, as my mind quickened, making Gabe almost look like he was walking in slow motion. I didn't think about where this all was coming from; only that now I had the means to even the fight with Gabriel.

I rushed forward, leg kicking up to hopefully clip his cheek. Gabriel leaned back with ease and my eyes narrowed as my back was presented to him as a result, but I put my kicking foot down and spun on that, lashing my other leg up in a backward roundhouse kick. My breath hissed out when strong hands clamped down on my calf before heaving and sending me flying. It was instinct and that ancient knowledge that had me flexing the appendages on my back and twisting like a cat to right myself to land on my feet.

I was totally ready for the next attack when I saw Gabriel just standing there, wings molting and arms crossed, a thoughtful but pleased look on his face. "What?" I demanded hotly, glaring at him. "Decided to give up on me already?"

My confusion and anger deepened when Gabriel threw back his head and laughed. "Hardly, kid. Take a look in the mirror. You did just fine." Confused, and reluctant to take my eyes off my opponent in case this was a trick, I turned myself in such a way that I could look in the mirror and still keep him in the corner of my eye. All thoughts of traps and fighting fled me as I saw myself.

I was no longer wearing sweats and a T-shirt. I had the skin-tight black pants that hung low on my hips, moving down to attach to the thin black shoes with small yellow stripes on them. The waist of my pants also had a yellow border and I couldn't help but blush a little when it clung to _everything_. I would never wear these pants in public. Nor the shirt if it could be called that. It only covered my arms, shoulders, neck, and pecs. It looked like it was made from black spandex and showed the edges and curves of all of my muscles, seeming to actually make them stand out. It left my entire stomach showing, leaving my light six pack, protruding hip bones, and dip in my spine for everyone to see. My shirt was mostly black with yellow edges, a yellow diagonal zigged-zagged across my chest once to disappear into the catholic collar around my neck and the sleeves went all the way down my arms to end at a point just on the knuckle of my middle finger and at the curve of my palm.

My hair was left untouched except for the fact that it was slicked back. Then there were my black bangs. They apparently grew and now framed my face much like Eric's bangs and as I watched, shock and surprise growing, they lifted and waved, laying back against my slicked back hair. Yeah, they were definitely reacting to my mood.

But what held most of my attention were the curved metal strips hovering just behind my back. They were a bright yellow and as long as my arms. Near the base of each metal strip was a bulge where a white circle sat and pulsed softly. There also seemed to be this yellow light that was thick between the appendages and moved with them as I experimentally flexed and waved them all at once and then one at a time. And that light didn't have anything to do with the yellow aura I seemed to be glowing with since it was more dense and tangible. It was like moving fingers that were growing from my back but they were ten times more sensitive. From the feelings I was getting from them I could pick up Eric's radiant warmth behind me and Gabriel's spark. I didn't have to look to know where they were thanks to my…wings.

I blinked at my reflection, twisting in place see my back as well as to see if my odd reflection moved with me. My shirt ended a little lower in the back than it did in the front—just above mid back. And my wings weren't even attached physically to my body. They just hovered over a spot between my shoulder blades.

It was…beyond shocking.

"You doing okay, Alex?" I heard Gabe ask.

I nodded as I gaped at my reflection. "Just…Just realizing that this is all real. That I'm not human," I murmur as the truth just hits me then. Holy fuck. Yeah, I was born here on Earth, but I was from another fucking planet. I was part of a war. I could do things no human could imagine doing. I wasn't human. Oh. My. God.

I jumped when a hand landed on my shoulder and I flicked my eyes to the reflection of Eric standing at my left with a sad and understanding look on his face. "It's a lot," he says and I nod in agreement. "Just know that we all went through the same thing. We're here for you."

A tiny smile touches my lips and I turn to look up at Eric physically while reaching up and covering his hand in mine. "I believe that. You guys are stuck with me."

Eric shared my smile and chuckled as he patted my shoulder. "Gladly." He moved his hand to the back of my neck and pulled me forward to press a kiss to my forehead, lips brushing my suddenly sensitive bangs. "Back to training with you."

I gave a dramatic groan before wiping the blood that was beginning to pool beneath my nose. "Fine. You know you're sending me to my death, right?" Eric just chuckles and smacks me on the butt to get me going.

There's something knowing in Gabe's smile as he watches us interact, and I wonder if he could see that I loved Eric. But then he looked curious. "Hey, Alex. What's your designation?"

"What—" I begin to ask but stop when a single word appears as clear as day in my mind. He's asking for my name. _My_ _name_. I couldn't help but laugh as I recognized it and how fitting it was. "Bumblebee. My designation is Bumblebee."

Mr. Mountain nodded, amusement warming his eyes. "My designation is Ironhide."

"And mine is Optimus Prime," Eric added. "Sebastian is Ratchet, Jazz is Jazz, and Chase is Prowl. Only use them when we're alone so no one asks questions."

I snorted. "Jazz and Prowl have it easy."

"Jazz is a conniving little shit," Gabriel huffed before waving me forward. "Come on, 'Bee. We've got work to do."

"Sir, yes, sir."

Chasing the Flame

So Ironhide is a firm believer in tough love. Something Seb agrees with whole heartedly. 'Nuff said.

So we have our explanation. Sorry for any hole in the story and for the little story teller blurb: I was too lazy to do dialogue. The whole idea for Cybertronians and Cybertron isn't too far off cannon as far as I know, I just changed it a bit to adapt to Bay's story and make my story a bit more logic… Did I really just call this logic? I need my sanity checked…

I'll post links for Bee's appearance on my profile. Go check and look at Sleepy while you're at it cuz he's awesome!


	12. Chapter 12

I'm beginning to get frustrated with myself. I had no frickin idea I wasted so much time with little fillers instead of actual plot. I originally planned to only post this chapter up until the first line break because I love Ratchet and he deserved a chapter of his own, but I guess he doesn't because I'm getting to impatient about wasting time. God damn me and my love of taking time.

Anyway, Gabe got his back story and now it's Ratchet's turn. Not terribly imaginative since I already had the gist of what Seb's background was. And then we move on to the somewhat sensitive topic of homosexuality. **If you don't like discussing homosexuality then skip this chapter. **

Chapter Warnings: Mentions and Discussions and Encouragement of Yaoi, Bullying Because of Homosexuality, Sexual Harassment. Don't like. Don't read.

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DeviantArt

Plot and OCs © me

Chasing the Flame

I hear Seb walk through the door around 8 o'clock, returning from his shift at the hospital. "Dinner's on the table," I call from where I'm cleaning up from steaks, mashed potatoes and gravy, and veggies. Eric offered to help, but I've heard enough horror stories from Seb to tell him 'No, thank you' and made dinner with Gabe cooking the steaks and me doing everything else. The large man apparently knew his way around meat intimately.

"Why do you sound funny?" the blond man asks curiously as I hear him drop off his coat and bag. "And how are you feeling? Did you wake up with any pain or…?" He trails off as he comes into the kitchen and sees that I was holding a bag of ice to my red and swollen nose. His curious and relaxed face instantly turns red and furious. "Gabriel!" he bellows, stalking forward to take a look at my face, pulling the ice away before knowingly lifting my shirt and seeing the bruises there.

"He left to go get beer a few minutes ago," I informed the doctor as he fumed. "Eric went with him."

"Oh, they know they're in trouble," he hisses. "Running away like cowards. I'll gut them. Hold still." I don't move a muscle as he suddenly glows that relaxing pale green, changing into his flowing robes and wings. I sigh lightly in relief as the aching fades under his quick hands. "Anything else?" Sebastian asks, looking me over critically.

I shake my head and smile gratefully as I put the bag of ice down, shaking the chill from my fingers. "No, Ratchet. You got everything. Thanks."

A blond eyebrow quirks over the use of his Cybertronian name, but he calms down a little bit and molts his appearance. "So they told you. Good. At least they did that right. I hope they did anyway." I point to the warm plate of food sitting on the table and he heads over there, no doubt hungry from a long shift. "Thank you."

"No problem."

"So how'd you take everything today?" he asked curiously after swallowing his first bite of steak, watching me as I go to the fridge and pull out one of my sodas.

"I'm still taking it in," I admit honestly. "It's a lot. I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight."

Ratchet chuckled and I watched as he purposely mixed his peas in with his mashed potatoes. That was something only he and I did and the others just thought it was weird. It was efficient and a better way to have normally bad tasting veggies. At least in mashed potatoes they weren't rolling all over the place. "I had it easier than you did. They told me before my wings emerged. I didn't believe Prime or 'Hide until Prime brought out his wings. I thought he was on fire. Damn near gave me a heart attack. And after that I refused to leave my room. It made everything I knew about human medicine seem ridiculous and menial. Humans aren't meant to do the things we do and it took me a while to accept that. Gabriel eventually got fed up with me and dragged me out of my room."

I grinned at the story. "I can't imagine you doing anything you don't want to do."

"He didn't have it easy. He still has the scar."

"Ouch." I winced in sympathy before sipping my soda and slipping into the chair across the table from him. "I'm guessing this was before you two hooked up?"

The man nodded and swallowed before answering. "Well before we got together. I had a lot of issues back then and it was only when Gabe was helping me through them that we started moving in that direction."

"What kind of issues?" I blurted before grimacing. "You don't have to answer that."

"It's fine. You live with me now, kid. And I have no doubt that you're going to save my life one day." My cheeks heated at the implied trust and faith of the statement and something warmed in my chest. "So you deserve to know. I was in the army like Gabriel. We never met, but we certainly came out with similar issues. I was a surgeon and on-site medic serving in Iraq. It was…" I watched as he sighed, pushing his food around on his plate before taking another bite. "You have to understand that it's not easy being a doctor. We go to school for eight years with all this knowledge about human anatomy and still we lose patients. It can eat away at a person. And in the army I often had to work on my friends; people I saw every day and knew had people waiting back in the states. And sometimes…sometimes I couldn't send them back. Sometimes they died right in front of me no matter how I begged them to stay."

He froze for a moment, eyes going dark and sad. "I snapped six years ago. I couldn't do it anymore. They discharged me and sent me back state side. I couldn't find it in myself to work as a doctor anymore or to even try living. If all those lives I failed to save were lost because of my incompetence or simply a failure of ability then why did I deserve to live when they didn't?" Sebastian shook his head and took another bite.

"I was…Well, not to sound too dramatic, but I was in a dark place when Gabriel found me. I was thoroughly drunk in a bar and he recognized my dog tags. Gabe tells me I was going on and on about how I was a failure and couldn't save anyone. I don't know what made him do it, but he took me home with him that night. Not to sleep with, but just…took me home. He introduced me to Eric and taught me how to work on cars. I worked for Eric for maybe a month, feeling the same chest pains you were feeling not too long ago. It was early in the change when Gabe just came out and told me what was going on when I kept worrying and fretting over what the heat and pain could be.

After that they let me help with communications and information supplying when they went out at night. They would come home tired and injured even and I felt so…helpless. Nothing I knew would even begin to cover the wounds they got from alien weapons and I most certainly couldn't take them to the hospital when I did know what to do. It didn't take much of that to make me snap again. Gabe was there that time. He talked me through it. And I think that's where our relationship began." I smiled when Seb looked up with a teasing glow in his green eyes. "I'll spare you the details, but I was lucky enough to not have my wings emerge while the Decepticons were trying to kill me. You got the short end of the stick with that, by the way." I shrugged. It was what it was. "No. My wings came out at a more…_intimate_ moment."

I gaped at the sentence and the smirk on Ratchet's face. "You're kidding," I chuckled.

Sebastian grinned and shook his head. "Nope. Happened right before I climaxed. Gabe even pet them and that's what sent me over. Slept for a whole 18 hours after that."

I groaned and dropped my head to the table. "TMI. TMI."

His laugh was rich and deep at my reaction. "You shouldn't be too embarrassed, Alex. Not with how things are moving with you and Eric." I tilted my head and looked at the blond man with one eye. He smirked devilishly. "Yes, I've noticed. You should just jump him soon. Finish this dance you two have going on."

I blushed and fiddled with my Coke can and decided to just tell him the truth. He was a doctor after all. He saw some weird shit. "I'm a virgin," I admitted, face flaming. "I don't exactly know how to 'jump him'. We haven't even kissed yet."

I was relieved when Ratchet didn't laugh or tease me, just held his fork to his mouth and hummed thoughtfully as he considered me. "I'm not sure what I can tell you about that. Just, when you feel like you want to kiss him, don't hesitate. Just go for it. I gaurentee he's not going to push you away."

"You don't think our age difference is weird?"

"We're immortal, Alex. Well, immortal in the sense that we can live as long as we like if no outside forces kills us, but that's not the point. The point is ten years isn't going to mean anything to anyone when you're 60 and still look like you're twenty. It may not be obvious now, but I've run tests ever since I found out about Cybertronians. Prime may be 27 but he stopped aging about three years ago. Same with Ironhide. He may be 43 but his spark stopped his physical aging when he was in his twenties even if his wings didn't appear until a few years ago."

My eyes bugged out. "Gabe's 43?!"

"Yup. Old bastard, ain't he?"

"And how old are you?"

"31. So you can see that age doesn't really mean anything to us. Just that you're both consenting. Which I guess is true from all the touching, ogling, cuddling, flirting, longing glances, pining—"

I laughed as he actually put down his fork and began to count off his list on his fingers. "I get it, Ratch'! I get it. I'll get a move on. Promise."

"Don't rush it, kid. You've got all the time in the world."

"I really do, don't I?" The thought of being immortal and not aging was a really strange one that pushed at my mental borders that still demanded to go by human standards despite the information dump today. I shook my head before getting up and moving to my room. "I've got to get to work."

"I'll give you a ride. You still working at the diner?"

"Dan's Diner, yeah."

"I still don't like the fact that you're working and 17."

"What's the matter, Ratch'? I thought age didn't mean anything."

Seb swatted my head as I moved to the door, jacket in hand. "Brat. Don't use my words against me."

"It's kind of hard when you just walk right into them," I pointed out as I went around his custom H2 Hummer.

"Keep that up and I won't give you your present."

I gasp as I leap up into my seat. "Present? Oh, come on, Ratchet! Please gimme my pretty present? I promise I'll be good and prank Gabriel extra hard for you."

"Well, when you put it that way…" He starts his large car and backs out of the driveway, pulling out onto the road before pointing to the glove box. "It's in there."

I couldn't open it fast enough and I gasped. There, sitting on top of the papers, was an android smartphone in a yellow and black case. I pull it out and reverently turn it on. The home screen comes up and I laugh at the picture background. It's a picture of just after I'd been moved back into the house from the shop to finish healing and I'd asked Eric to sleep with me. Apparently I hadn't wrestled Jazz's phone from him in time because the photo still existed, but now I was glad I didn't. Eric was spooning me from behind, face totally relaxed in sleep and face pressed into the top of my head, his hair messy in such an adorable way as he wrapped his arms around me. I shivered as I saw how intimately and possessively his hands were pressed against my chest in the picture. When my eyes traced how the covers obscured us from the waists down I felt a small thrill. It was obvious that we were pressed pretty close to each other.

Lust and arousal flashed through me as I hummed. "I gotta get me some Eric," I say out loud and Seb chuckles.

"It'll only get worse until you actually do smething about it. Anyway, all of our phone numbers are already in there and on speed dial. If you ever need help, human or 'Con or whatever else, call us."

"Thank you, Sebastian," I say, grinning at the blond man before leaning over the consul and hugging him as best as I could. "Best gift ever."

"It's from all of us, but you're welcome. Use it wisely."

"If by wisely you mean text the crap out of everyone then that's something I can do." Despite my words I carefully pocketed the large phone in my pocket since we were arriving at the diner. "Thanks for the ride and phone, Ratch'. I'll see you later. Have fun with Eric and Gabe!"

"You owe me a prank!"

I grin as I wave goodbye and he pulled out of the parking lot. Even if I did start my day late and immediately followed by a painful beating and training it was ending well.

The following Monday I went back to school. The first day of school since I found out I wasn't human. It had been an amusing start to the day, waking everyone up at the house.

Memorial Day had been just yesterday and with two veterans in the house it was obviously celebrated. And by celebrated I mean the guys broke out the hard liquor and started telling stories and playing games. It was funny to Apples to Apples with the adults. There had been some ridiculous card matches that made even Prowl laugh and certainly sent others to the ground, holding their sides and alcohol. Then Jazz turned up the music and started dancing with Prowl, which was just this shy of groping each other. Prowl was surprisingly a dirty dancer and I wasn't sure if that was due to the vodka in his hand or not. There were laughs and jokes and stories all around and it was just a fun and warm atmosphere.

And, as the night progressed and more alcohol was consumed, I detached myself and watched from a distance as they got more rowdy and loud. Even if I knew them it still made me nervous to know that their minds was clouded and their inhibitions were lowered, but I still enjoyed myself from hearing their jokes and stories even if I wasn't a part of them. As I sat there, watching, I admitted to myself that if this was a party I would gladly go to it as long as I didn't have to drink or be too close to drunk people. Maybe I wouldn't shut Jazz down so hard when he brought up taking me clubbing. Dancing and partying? Might just be enough fun to ignore the alcohol.

Then, late in the night after I'd fallen asleep, I had heard my door open and I was awake in an instant to see Eric walking in a bit unsteadily.

Chasing the Flame

Chasing the Flame

"Eric?" I called, wondering what he was doing in my room. My heart raced a little bit when he continued to approach me and my bed. I put together the fact that Ratchet said Eric was equally interested in me and what was usually done in a bed between attracted people pretty quickly and wondered what the drunk man intended. I was still tense when he flopped over in my bed and settled himself beside me. When he started pulling me closer to his chest I stiffened and braced my hands against his chest. "Eric," I said firmly, hoping to get a coherent response out of him.

The dark haired man hummed and blinked at me slowly, alcohol thick in his breath. "Tired. Can I sleep here?" he asked, pulling me closer once more and this time I didn't resist too much. But I was still on guard as he kicked off his shoes and twined his legs with mine, hugging me to his chest. I frowned, still trying to figure out if Eric really wasn't interested in that—'cause I seriously wasn't when he was drunk! Thankfully I couldn't feel anything hard in his pants that were pressed to mine. I jolted when Eric removed one arm to run a thumb over my lips. "Shouldn't frown," he murmured, eyes half-lidded. "You look more handsome when you smile." My cheeks warmed at the compliment and a small smile did show up. Eric smiled in return, still rubbing his thumb over my lips as he rested his hand on my cheek. Apparently he intended to keep his hand there. "There it is. So beautiful."

I was seriously tempted to take the thumb into my mouth and maybe nibble on it or lick it, but I didn't think he would interpret the motion as the curious, if a little heated, interest I had. So I let the thumb keep moving unimpeded. "Go to sleep, Eric." He grunted before moving the hand that was on my lower back so as to pull my upper chest and head to rest just underneath his chin before putting the hand back where it was. I listened as his breathing slowed down; his thumb still caressing my increasingly sensitive lower lip as he drifted off.

"You okay, Alex?" Jazz's voice asked from the doorway and I turned my head, slowly lifting it to see the small man standing in the light of the doorway with Prowl hugging him contentedly from behind and head resting on top of Jazz's. I smiled at the picture and wondered if it was bad of me that I hoped Jazz divorced his wife soon and got together with Prowl because they just looked so natural and happy together. Jazz had probably been heading to his old room when he peeked in and saw Eric laying with me.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I whispered when Eric shifted in his light sleep.

Jazz nodded, but it was Prowl who spoke. "Call if you need anything."

I nodded and the two left, leaving my door open but turning the hallway light off. Laying my head back down where Eric had originally placed me, I buried my nose in his shirt to muffle the smell of alcohol. It didn't take me long to fully relax and drift back to sleep.

Chasing the Flame

Chasing the Flame

I'd woken in much the same position as I'd fallen asleep. Eric didn't even stir as I pulled myself away, but it had been fun messing with his phone, setting it on the most annoying alarm and the loudest volume and set it for when I would leave. He did have to get up for work anyway.

I wish I had been there to see the reaction, but I didn't want to have a tired Eric seeking revenge on me for startling him awake. He'd punched Gabe once for doing that. So I fled the scene of the crime, waving goodbye to a surprisingly not-hung-over Ratchet.

It was a good start to the day. There was a bounce in my step and I was looking forward to heading to the shop after school and training more.

So I was instantly aware of the different atmosphere the second I walked onto the school campus. I was a bit later than usual, meaning I only had a few minutes to get to class and that there was a good number of students loitering outside the school doors and in the parking lot. All their eyes turned to me as I walked by and they instantly turned to friends to whisper hurriedly, glancing at me. Some students outright glared at me, looking like they could come over and just sucker punch me.

My smile and good mood dropped as I watched the strange behavior going on around me, not stopping my course for the main building to grab my books and head to class. I was wondering if I'd missed something over Memorial Day Weekend when I walked through the school doors and stopped dead in my tracks. The walls and lockers were covered in bright pink paper that the custodians were trying to take down as quickly as possible while teachers hotly directed students to throw away any pink papers in their hands and to get to class.

Worried and dreading what I'd find, I went to the nearest wall of paper and yanked it from where it was taped to the wall. My world teetered on axis as I stared at a picture of me kissing Jess. It was taken in such a way that Jess wouldn't be able to be identified but that I would be easily recognizable. And it was caught in just the right moment, with my hands wrapped in Jess' hair to pull him away, but it certainly didn't look that way in the picture. The exact opposite even. On top of the picture was my full name in bold black letters and on the bottom it read 'SYMPTOMS OF HOMOSEXUALITY: PRISSY BEHAVIOR, VANITY, HOLIER-THAN-THOU MINDSET, TENDANCY TO BACKSTAB ANYONE CAUGHT TOO CLOSE, AND PREFERENCE OF SUCKING DICKS. WARNING: IT IS CONTAGOUS. STAY AWAY FROM ANY OF THE INFECTED.'

I looked up in horror to see students watching me and my reaction, giggling to themselves or looking at me in disgust. The entire main hall was coated in papers just like the one in my hand.

"Alexander!" My head snapped to the side to see one of the teachers approaching me, sadness and fury in his eyes as he placed a supportive hand on my shoulder. "The principal wants you in his office as soon as possible."

I nodded numbly, looking back down at the paper in my hand before crumbling it. "Thanks," I say firmly, giving him a forced smile even if I feel like puking. Resolutely not looking at any of the whispering students, I walk towards the office, throwing the paper in my hand away at the nearest trashcan. I refused to admit it, but the other students clearing a path for me, sometimes jumping dramatically out of the way like they'd dodged a bullet, hurt and anger fueled what I knew would be a horrible fire in my chest.

The principal's raised angry voice could be heard just as I step into the office. The secretary looks up, tight angry lines on her face, and just points me in the direction of the principal's office. I follow the yelling and stand in the doorway of the large office, waiting to be permitted entry. My hand has a steely grip on my backpack straps as I listen to him shout into his phone. "I don't care how many hours of footage you have to go through! I want you to get those security tapes and find out who the hell did this. Am I understood?!" Principal Burkheart turns at that moment and sees me waiting. Some of the righteous fury falls from his face, replaced by pity and apology, before he snaps into his phone, "Get it done." He slams the phone down, waving me in. The aging man scrubs his face. "Alex, I'm so sorry. We've been trying to get the papers down all morning, but—"

I waved off his apology as I shrugged off my bag and sat in the plush chair in front of his desk. "Don't worry about it," I tell him with a sigh, closing my eyes for a moment. "I know you're trying your best."

Burkheart drops heavily into his seat. "This is an utter mess. Do you have any idea who would do this?"

Mike, Cal, and Jess, the malicious snake. I bit my tongue as I forced myself to think ahead. I could immediately direct him towards the three assholes, but they had dirt on me. I couldn't have an investigation into me being a robber. If I turned them in they would no doubt blab on me and school officials would be forced to report to the police and that would bring me right back into court. God damn it. Why was I ever friends with them?

"No," I finally bit out, looking the principal in the eye. "That's Jess Smith in the picture with me, but you can ask Mr. Dean about that. He saw when Jess suddenly kissed me. I pushed him away. But as for who took the pictures? No. I have no idea."

Burkheart sighed. "I'm sorry, Alex."

"Not your fault." I shrugged, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Some immature asshole thought it would be funny to do this. Kudos for the effort they had put forward."

The principal didn't chastise me on my language. He reached for the phone. "I'll personally call your guardian, Alex. You can go home for today."

I shot forward from my relaxed recline. "No!" The old man looked at me in surprise and I quieted my voice. "I'm going to have to come back eventually and I'd rather not give everyone the pleasure of knowing they chased me from school." I had more pride than these protozoans could ever think to damage. I would show them that I was stronger than they thought.

Burkheart looked impressed as he brought his hand away from the phone. "There's no shame in taking some time to prepare yourself, Alex," he told me gently.

I grinned, anger edging it. "Nothing they throw at me will need such an effort. I'll be fine."

The old man looked me over closely before sighing. "Alright. I'll give you a pass to class. But I will be informing your guardian."

Meh. Not like I was going to keep it from the guys. I just hoped that I could do it after school when they weren't all struggling to wake up and get to work. At least then I could answer their questions and hopefully keep Gabe from killing anyone. I'd have to trust Seb to do that now. "Okay."

As I was walking out I heard his office phone ring and him pick it up. There was a brief pause before I heard him shouting, "What do you mean the footage has been deleted!?"

All eyes locked on me as I walked into my first class, handing the note to my teacher, who gave me a look of support before telling me to take my seat. The whole class was silent as I moved to my desk. Everything was okay until I sat down and the people around me instantly inched their desks away from mine, sounds muffled against the carpet so the teacher didn't hear. I ground my teeth. I could see how this day was going to go.

The teacher had just started lecturing when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. No doubt a text message from one of the guys after they got the news. I dutifully paid attention to the teacher even as I saw students looking back at me and giving me dirty looks. My phone kept vibrating, suffering a barrage of text messages, and I resolved to find a quiet unseen corner after class and send them a text that I was fine and needed to concentrate on school.

I flinched when a balled up paper hit the back of my head and I turned to glare at whoever had done that. It was the three assholes. They looked very smug and proud of themselves. Mike pointedly looked down at the paper, but I ignored him and looked forward once more. I wouldn't play their games.

When the bell rung, I got up with everyone else, packing up my stuff. I had just stood up when someone bumped into me, causing me to unbalance and nearly face plant on my desk. Where there was now a paper. "_You are a stain to this world and country. You don't deserve to be here. Leave or I'll kill you._" My anger flared again, but I refused to show any outward reaction. I only straightened and left the classroom.

I wasn't able to check my phone because so many people today apparently didn't see me and kept bumping into me. Once I even fell back on my butt as I swear someone grabbed my backpack and yanked. Laughter went up in the hall as my face heated from embarrassment, but that was the only reaction as I gained my feet once more and moved on. In first and second hour, much of the same occurred, pushing, shoving, dirty looks. On my way to third hour someone shouted down the hall, "Go fuck yourself, homo!" I didn't bother looking to see who said it even as I dearly wished to punch whoever said it.

My phone kept vibrating and I focused on that.

In third hour a pretty girl walked up to me and smiled sweetly. "It's fun getting a dick shoved in you, isn't it?" She was sent to the office as my face burned bright.

They started whispering words. Filth. Disgusting. Go away. Twisted. Fucked up. Die.

By the time lunch rolled around I had absolutely no appetite. I waited in the classroom for two or three minutes, waiting for the halls to clear as hungry teenagers migrated to the cafeteria, before getting up and heading to the nearest bathroom. It was blessedly empty and I instantly moved to the sink. Water on my face helped cool my rising emotions and allowed me to breathe easier. I looked up and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

So what if I was gay? I've been going to school with some of these kids ever since kindergarten. I've been breathing the same air as them for years. Been eating the same food. Taking the same classes. Why would they just suddenly turn on me?

I understood the high school mentality. Anyone who was different was fair game. Anyone who was associated with any kind of taboo was fair game. If one person started ridiculing another person then soon everyone else would. It was a part of fitting in. I got that. I could even say that I felt the same urge. But to tease and mock and bully someone just to 'fit in'? I didn't get that.

My phone vibrated in my pocket again and I pulled it out, turning around and leaning my back against the lip of the sink. Unlocking the screen, a tight smile came to my face as I saw the litany of text messages waiting for me. 97 to be exact. Wow. Talk about spamming me. It eased a little bit of tension in my chest and I started to scroll through them.

**Jazz: R U okay, B?**

**Eric: How bad are things?**

**Seb: Do you want us to come get you?**

**Gabe: Txt back damnit.**

**Prowl: I'm already working on find out who did this.**

**Eric: You holding up okay?**

**Seb: Gabe's getting frustrated. You may want to text back before he shows up at your school.**

**Jazz: B! Tlk 2 me!**

**Gabe: Who do I need to kill?**

**Eric: You can come home if you want.**

**Prowl: Everyone is worried and your principal is being very cooperative. Do you want me to get you anything while I'm here?**

**Gabe: That's it. I'm comin**

**Jazz: BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBB! (T_T)**

**Seb: No one's trying to hurt you, are they?**

**Eric: Bee? Do you want to talk?**

I laughed a bit, blinking away the tears in my eyes before dialing a number. Putting the phone to my ear, I listened to the ringing, closing my eyes and waiting.

There was a click and then Eric's voice came over the speaker. "Bumblebee?"

My smile grew and I felt more of the tension in my body seep away. "Hey," I greeted back softly.

"Are you okay? Do you want me to come get you?"

"Naw, Eric," I answered easily no matter how the growing part of me said yes. My pride still overruled it. "I'm doing fine. Just high school."

"Your principal called Jazz and he told us what happened. How—"

"Is that Bee?" I heard Jazz call faintly in the background of the call.

"Yes and—"

"Damn it, Prime! Let us talk to him!" That was Gabe.

"Don't make me sedate you!" Ratchet.

There was the sound of air moving over the phone. "Gimme the phone, Eric!" Jazz demanded, probably trying to steal the phone away.

"For the love of…Jazz!"

"Hold your pants, Prime," Jazz shouted. "I'm putting him on speaker."

All the arguing went silent as they heard my laughter coming over the line. "You guys just made my day," I tell them, heart becoming impossibly light as I heard the playful bickering and worry over me. "Thanks for that."

"No problem, BB," Jazz replied. "How are you holding up?"

"Fine, fine," I assure them, waving a hand they couldn't see. "It's just stupid crap. Really."

Gabriel snarled, "Do you know who did it?" My silence was telling. I would never tell officials for fear of black mail and an investigation, but I wouldn't lie to my family.

"Well, turn them in!" Seb snapped.

I heaved a sigh and rubbed my forehead. "It's more complicated than that."

"What's complicated about turning in a bunch of hooligan, delinquents?"

"That they have black mail on me and I don't want to be arrested." Silence. I sighed again. "Eric, it's those three douchebags." A noise of understanding reached my ears.

"What douchebags?" Jazz demands.

"Eric…" Gabriel growled and I winced, knowing I just turned the heat onto the dark haired man.

"Don't worry about it, guys," I call over their raised voices. "I'll deal with it. I can fight my own battles. Besides, they're just a bunch of morons."

"If you're sure, Alex," Sebastian said slowly.

"I am. I can fight my own battles. Look, I've got to go. Lunch is going to be over soon. I'll see you guys later, alright?"

"We're having ice cream when you get here," Jazz says firmly, daring anyone to challenge him.

My smile comes back. "Sure, Jazz. I'll see you guys then." They say their farewells and I hang up my phone, smile lingering on my face. I needed that.

"Those your fuck buddies?"

I definitely did not need this. My eyes flick up to see a couple of guys file into the bathroom and my alarms instantly go off. Casually, I straighten from my spot on the sink. "Friends actually."

The leader of the group grinned maliciously. "They know what a fucking disgust you are?"

I laugh softly, pocketing my phone and reaching for my backpack. "You may want to use complete sentences when you're trying to be intimidating," I advise the boy, shoulder my pack and tightening the straps.

"Get off your high horse," another snarls.

"And lower myself to your abysmal standards? No, I don't think I will."

The leader sniffs and crosses his arms, looking down his nose at me. "Take off your shirt," he orders.

"Excuse you?"

"Are you stupid on top of being gay? I said, 'Take off your shirt'."

I give him a thoroughly unimpressed look. "Uh. No. Excuse me, I need to get to class." The boys between me and the door don't move and I'm about to shoulder past them when they grab my arms. "Get your hands off of me," I snapped, yanking myself free and backing up. Someone kicks the back of my knees, driving me down. Two pairs of hands grab my shoulders and arms, holding them back and at an awkward angle. I struggle against the grip as the leader walks up to me, undoing his belt. It's at that moment that I realize my face is even with his crotch and exactly what he's planning to do. I glare up at him. "You put your junk anywhere near my face and I'm biting it off," I growl, the sound rumbling in my chest.

The leader smirks, pulling his fly down and I begin to tremble from fury. "Just suck it. You know you want to."

"Get off of me!" I shout, leaning down before suddenly rearing back, breaking the holds on me. I jump to my feet and shove away anyone who tried to rush me before grabbing my backpack and making a dash for the exit. I'm barely two steps out when I see a familiar form. "Officer Hunter!" I exclaim loudly and I see the blond-slash-burnet's eyes sharpen as I call him by his official title just as the boys stumble to stop outside the bathroom. "So good to see you. How are you?"

Prowl glares faintly at the boys, sending them scurrying. "I am well. I'm hoping you can say the same."

I force a smile as I put my backpack on. "Oh, you know how it is. Just them throwing their weight around." The bell rings through the halls, signaling the end of lunch. "I've got to go, Prowl. I'll see you later?"

The tall man nods, a concerned look in his grey eyes, but he lets me go. "Yes. Have a good day in class."

By the time I get to the shop I'm immensely glad that the school day is over. Of course, I'm staunchly refusing to think about the rest of the week or the rest of the month. Just three more weeks and it's summer vacation. "Hey guys!" I call into the garage as I come in, dropping my backpack off.

"Bee!" I hear Jazz shout from somewhere before he seems to materialize out of nowhere at my side. He's practically vibrating in place with a spoon hanging from his mouth, a half-full carton of sherbet ice cream cuddled close to his chest, and a full carton of rocky road ice cream being held out to me with a bow on top. "Here!" I grin as Jazz becomes a blur of color, zooming off as Seb shouts incoherently and throws a tool in his direction. I guess Jazz was as bad as me when it came to sugar rushes. Huh. The chaos we could cause if we were sugar rushing together. Hmm. I'll save that for either a very good day or as an especially heinous punishment.

"Alex." I turn my smile to Eric as he walks up to me.

"Hey, big guy. How's it going?"

His arm wraps around my shoulders and I'm glad I don't see too much worry or concern in his eyes. "We've been doing well despite the fact that Jazz is bouncing off the walls."

I chuckle and press deeper into the embrace. "If you think he's bad you don't want to see me get my hands on sugar." An eyebrow lifted. "My memory is patchy, but I remember cops, a fire, and an army of rubber ducks."

"You don't say…" I laugh as Eric casually takes the tub of ice cream from me, hiding it behind his back.

"Relax. I don't have sweets often. Just the occasional soda."

"I'm glad to hear that," he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead and nuzzling my hair. "I need a hand replacing an axel. Wanna help?"

I grinned. "Do I get to control the lift?" He nods. "Then of course."

The day passes in a pleasant blur. The guys seem to know that I don't want to talk about school and leave off with only a few vague references of it. I didn't have to leave early tonight or for the rest of the week. Dan and Marsha decided they wanted to suddenly take a vacation, so they left on a week-long camping trip, leaving me with a ton more free time to hang out with my family.

Jazz is still a blur for the rest of the day. I got a kick out of when he came up behind Gabe and, jumping up, he balances on the hands he placed on Gabe's shoulders, lifting his legs and yelping, "Pwnt!" Gabe was not amused, but he couldn't catch Jazz when the Jamaican was feeling tired so Jazz got away.

Eric stays with me for the night. We tag-teamed all of the cars. It was nice to know what I was doing when it came to cars and to even put my growing knowledge to the test. It was progress from when I first came to the garage and progress was good.

When it came to closing time, all of the guys went upstairs and told me to lock up. I pouted and protested a bit, but Jazz glomping me with a hug and telling me over and over again that it was okay and that I was loved was enough to get me to shut up and let the guys do their own thing. Now that I knew what was going on I figured they would let me upstairs soon.

I just didn't expect it to be that night.

I was closing the huge garage doors when Jazz appeared at my side, poking my arm obnoxiously. "You wanna come upstairs?" he asks before teleporting over to the door. "Let's goooo! Adventure time!"

"I'm pretty sure going upstairs doesn't qualify as an adventure," I point out as I finished what I was doing and jogged over, excited despite my teasing.

Jazz whined. "But it is an adventure! There's a butt ton of stairs to go up!"

"Yes, yes. Adventure time. Move it, Jazz." I groan when, after he unlocks the door with a swipe of his card over the scanner, he gets this mischievous look and starts going up at a snail's pace. And I couldn't pass him because the stairway was too narrow. "Jaaaaazzzzzz!"

Cue perfectly innocent expression. "What? I'm just making sure I don't trip." I snort in disgust before ducking down underneath his arm and squeezing past. "Hey! Rude much!"

"Too slow, gramps!"

"Who you callin 'gramps'?!"

I run up the stairs as fast as I can to avoid an indignant Jazz, but I come to a stop when I reach the top. I whistle as I take in the room. "Nice," I drawled.

There's alien tech everywhere and my fingers twitch to take it apart. The center of the large open area is a sparring mat similar to the one at home and off to the right is an entire bank of weird screens and panels that I think are computers. Straight in front of me and on the other side of the sparing mat is a wall dedicated to weapons. Guns, rifles, swords, knives, and a whole bunch of other things I couldn't identify. Over to my right, where there's a wall, I see a door that leads to a short hallway with a few doors doting it. I figure that's where I was when I slept here.

Seb looks over from where he's sitting by the alien computers with Gabe and Eric behind him. "Come over here, kid. I'm going to show you how to work these." I practically skip over to him. The adults smile at my enthusiasm as Seb gets up and motions for me to sit in the chair. I do so happily, staring at all the weird red and black, gnarly looking electronics. "You're going to be running communications and information while we're out on patrol," the blond man informs me.

"How am I supposed to read any of this?" I ask, frowning at the shifting screens and odd panels the size of my hands but litter the half circle in front of me.

"Focus on one of the glyphs," Seb orders and I do, looking at one of the buttons on the panels that look like a fish. I'm about to ask what I'm supposed to be looking for when the fish symbol and all the other symbols suddenly go fuzzy before my eyes. My head hurts briefly, but then my vision and head clear and suddenly I just know that the fish symbol means _command enter/search_. The meanings appear in my head the same way my designation did when Ironhide asked for it.

"That's weird," I murmur.

"We're Cybertronians. It's in us to know our own language," Seb explains. "Now, the way to use this will come to you the same way the translations did. But here on the screens you have four different sections." He points to the upper right hand corner of the clustered screens. "This one is our health readings and location if you call up the map." The upper left hand cluster is pointed out next. "This is a readout and map of any nearby spark signatures and anomalies. The bottom right hand is hooked up to the city police department live feed of reports and information so we know where the authorities are. And this last section is hooked to the World Wide Web but in a way that lets you pull up any necessary and needed information as fast as possible. We'll have on headsets so you'll be able to hear us talking. Any questions?"

I narrow my eyes as I take in all the screens. As Seb predicted I suddenly had this knowledge on how to manipulate the screens without a mouse and how to switch between maps and track locations. "I don't think so," I answer after a moment.

"Good. Here's your headset." I take the little Bluetooth earpiece that's offered to me and put it in my ear, adjusting it so it's comfortable. Seb reaches up and touches the earpiece in his ear. "Can you hear me?" I nod as his voice comes over the tiny speaker loud and clear. The blond man puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it. "You'll do good kid. This isn't that hard."

I smile up at him. "Good luck," I tell him.

He pats my shoulder one last time before turning to the guys behind me. "Prime," he calls. "We're ready."

Eric's voice comes over my headset even if I can hear him just fine without it. "Alright. Let's roll. You know your routes and areas of interest."

I spin in my chair and watch as they all file down the stairs, waving goodbye to them. Once they're out of sight I turn back to the computers and experimentally pulled up a map with their locations. I watch as four blips begin to slowly move away from the shop.

Prime's voice comes over my headset. "Comm check," he calls.

"Ironhide ready."

"Ratchet online."

"Jazz-man present."

"Bumblebee here," I say, shaking a little bit, worried I mess up my report, but relaxing when no one corrects me.

"Anything to report, Bumblebee?" Prime asks.

My eyes quickly flick over the screens, fingers sliding and tapping the glass panels to manipulate what I was seeing. "No. Maps are clear except for Prowl over at the police station. There's a fire going on across town and all signals are coming in strong."

I nearly sag in relief when Eric answers, "Good. Inform me immediately if anything of interest comes up." It's noticeable how his tone and way of speaking changes when he's out on patrol. He's no longer as casual, but clips his sentences and takes on this emotionless tone. This was Optimus Prime at work.

"Will do."

Thankfully they come back around two in the morning with nothing happening all night long. When I laid down in bed to go to sleep, I thought to myself that I could finally understand why Eric was always so hard to wake up in the morning if he only got four or five hours of sleep. It sounded dreadful to me, but when I got six hours of sleep on a normal day I figured I could work on cutting an hour or two back. If I wanted to be out there with them it was going to have to be something I had to be able to do.

Chasing the Flame

So, I love Ratchet. Normally I love pairing him with the twins, but the AU isn't mine and Ironhide is the next person I'd pair with the temperamental medic. Ratchet is the best. ^u^

And I'll say this now. I don't care about homosexuality. I. Don't. Fucking. Care. But the one thing I do care about is people making others feel horrible for their sexuality. A person loves who they love. Why should I judge them? It's my opinion. Don't leave any flames or I will use it to burn you and then set Eric on your ass. Deal with it. Don't get me wrong, you can voice your own opinions, but don't hate on anyone because of their opinion.

Now that my spiel in done and I end on this depressing note, I'd like to tell you that the next chapter has action and blood and internal freak outs and arguing and all that awesome stuff. I'll post that chapter the filler chapter I wrote with it. Apparently I wrote a bunch of tiny oneshots in my story without realizing it, but it fits in the story, so, instead of posting it separately, I'll post it in the story and you can either skip it or not depending on if you're as impatient as me. So two chapters for you guys in a few days! WOO!

I'm going to post another picture on my profile of Jazz doing the 'Pwnt!' thing to Ironhide. Remember to leave a review and go check out Sleepy!


	13. Chapter 13

So apparently when I was writing this I hit writers block right around here and didn't realize it. The plot didn't want to come to me, so I resorted to writing nearly meaningless oneshots. And apparently I felt like there wasn't enough Optimus/Bee going on cuz this chapter is littered with it. Also, there's a little surprise in this chapter. See if you can't spot it.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: YAOI, YAOI, YAOI, YAOI (No smut, but kissing and obvious guy/guy relationship).

Transformers © Hasrbo

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DeviantArt

Plot and OCs © me

Chasing the Flame

My controlled pants of breathing were the only thing that could be heard in the basement. I lashed out a quick one-two followed by grabbed my invisible opponent's head and bringing it down to bash their face against my knee. Then I twisted in a roundhouse kick to send them stumbling back.

The second my foot touched the ground again I settled back into position and did the whole combination over again. And over. And over. Ironhide said he was looking for speed in this set and I was pushing my body to lash out as quickly as it was able. My wings weren't out at the moment due to the fact that they didn't deem the situation I was in as dire enough to need them, but Ironhide told me that anything I practiced without the wings would transfer over and be ten times faster and stronger. So, here I was on a Friday night after dinner, practicing until I felt tired enough to go to bed.

This entire week had been stressful and I needed to let off steam every night or else I would just lay awake in bed. School was turning out to be chore I dreaded doing every day. They weren't letting up in the least and since it was only the first week I was still looking for a routine and mindset that would allow me to keep control of myself and avoid the other students. I'd switched to packing my own lunches and spending lunch in a teacher's classroom as they ate lunch too, but that was pretty much the only successful measure I've been able to think of. There was no way to avoid the halls between classes or a way to react to all the shouldering and shoving without having someone think they'd managed even a tiny victory. It was frustrating and it hurt.

Just two more weeks. Just two more weeks. Really only a week and a half because you only have one full week left and then two days for finals. And then you're free and you can leave all those assholes behind.

Sighing, I stopped and rolled my neck, feeling the need to actually hit something. I moved over to the hanging punching bag and brought my arms up in defense before lashing out in a series of punches, ending it with throwing an elbow or two. Getting back into a mindless routine, my thoughts turned inward again.

School was the only thing that was really bothering me. If anything I was letting it bother me more than I probably should. The guys were always supportive, but I don't think they knew what was really going on. I hadn't really told them the details of what was being said or done around me in school; only that the other students were being stupid and immature. That's my fault I suppose. If I wanted sympathy and pity I would tell them, but I was 17. I needed to handle my own problems and me telling them would sound like useless whining because, seriously, why whine about something that you couldn't really change? It's just a waste of energy and breath. It's better to just suck it up and deal with it. So I kept my silence and counted down the days until summer.

And it wasn't all that bad. It was only a few hours out of the day and after that I was immediately surrounded by people I loved and something I loved to do. For the past few days I'd been working on this one car, taking it apart and cleaning and putting it back together all on my own. I loved the quiet work and just eating away at what I needed to do and getting closer and closer to my goal. The car had gone back to its owner yesterday, purring like a kitten, when Eric suggested I officially work at the Firebird. It would be under the table like it was at Dan's until I turned 18 of course. He said that if I kept bringing in all these cute ladies asking me to work on their cars then I deserved to be paid.

That had thrown me for a loop and when he'd said that I turned to look at the window between the reception and the garage and I saw some woman just standing there, smiling to each other and glancing at us. I hadn't even known that the past week's worth of constantly having a car before me was because I was being requested or that Eric even allowed requests like that. I told him that I'd think about it because I did enjoy working at the diner. There were so many people there to chat up as I took their dishes or their orders and Dan and Marsha were always great company. But the thought of not having to leave the garage early and going home with the guys when they did was incredibly tempting.

And then there were the patrols. I found out that the guys had a sort of rotation they went through. Two of them were always out in the city every night. Usually the pairs were Jazz and Prowl, Ratchet and Ironhide, Optimus and whoever felt up to going out on that night, normally Ironhide. They didn't always have someone at the computers. I'd learned that it was useful to have, but on a normal quiet night or even one where they ran into 'peons', I still have no idea what that is, they didn't need information from the computers. It was like a safety net for walking across a plank ten feet off the ground. Not entirely needed but good to have. For three of the past five days I've been on the computers, relaying information to whoever was out there in the field before hitching a ride home with them when they got back.

Luckily there had been nothing bad going up and Sebastian told me that it was strange for Megatron to be so quiet after a defeat. So I was bracing for when the shit did hit the fan.

Tuesday and then today were the days the guys told me to go home and get some sleep, citing the age old reason that growing boys needed their rest. Eh. Whatever. Yeah, it made me nervous that I was in the dark if they possibly got hurt, but I was nervous anyway when I was at the computers. So it was a lose-lose and one I just took with little protests.

I grunted as I caught the swinging punching bag, shaking my head. So many thoughts. Yeah, I probably never would have slept at all tonight.

"Are you okay?" a voice suddenly asked.

I jumped a little before turning to see Eric sitting on one of the machines, settled comfortably as if he'd been there for a while. "Yeah. Just burning off some steam," I answered.

He frowned, lips dipping down into his little beard. "Something bothering you?"

My normal smile came up when I realized someone was worrying about me. "No. It's just my mind is working overtime and I figured practicing and tiring myself out would be two bird, one stones."

Prime hummed thoughtfully, watching me go over to where I had sat my water bottle and take a swig of it. "I've always found that sparing helps me when my brain won't shut up," he tells me. "Then I'm occupied with how my opponent is moving and how to react instead of all those thoughts."

"Sounds legit," I reply, capping my water bottle. "You offering?"

"Of course." Then he stood up and took off his shirt. Cue internal nosebleed. Mmm. Those wide muscled shoulders coming down to smooth pecs. That incredible six-almost-eight pack that made me just want to rub my hands over it and follow the path further and further down. He was just so obviously built and strong enough to protect someone as well as pin them down and do whatever he wanted with them…Huh. I think I might have a dom/sub kink… Head in the game, Bee. "You ready?" Eric asks.

I struggle to keep my mind from absently admiring the body before me as I step up on to the sparing mat. Optimus and I had never spared before and I'd never really seen him fight without his flames. Shoot, already at a disadvantage.

"Just a nice, easy spar," the dark haired man assured me as he brought his arms up and started approaching me. I watch his every move, vaguely noting that he moved with silent ease, fluid in his movements. When he throws a lazy punch I deflect it easily before retaliating with a punch of my own. We traded blows and kicks with a slow and easy pace and I found an unknown tension in my shoulders sliding away as I concentrated on the give-take of the slow match.

As it went on I got curious. How would he react if I decided to take this a bit more seriously? The next time we met I lashed out my foot and lightly tapped him on the side of his knee before bouncing back. He twitched at the point before a smirk was directed at me. I grinned innocently, excited for what was to come next.

Eric glided forward with more intent and we started testing each other. Our moves were fast but light. And sometime after we just pushed and pulled advantages Eric decided to get playful. His hand suddenly came up and tapped my cheek. I spluttered indignantly and he chuckled when I returned the favor. It dissolved from there, darting quickly past each other's guards to see who could land the most taps and pats.

And then he tried to trip me, gripping my shoulders and knocking my feet out from under me with a swipe of his foot. I yelped as I felt myself falling, grabbing his arms to try and stop myself out of instinct. This actually made him fall with me.

I laughed as I thudded to the ground, liking how Optimus, after landing his surprisingly heavy weight on me, just blanketed my smaller body. He chuckled with me, sharing my grin, as he props himself up on his elbows. And then we just looked at each other.

The teasing and fun air changed to an apprehensive and waiting one as our smiles slipped off and we just watched each other, tracing our eyes over each other's faces and looking for something. I don't know what he was searching for, but I was hoping to find a hint of attraction or anything that said he would welcome a kiss, because with him laying over me and his face right in front of me I very much wanted to kiss him.

"_When you feel like you want to kiss him, don't hesitate. Just go for it._"

Alright. Okay. I can do this. Here we go. Please don't mess it up!

I screwed up my courage and leaned up, pressing my lips chastely to his, eyes screwed shut and waiting for rejection. Eric tensed over me. I could feel his once soft lips press together in a tense line and my heart sank. God damn it. I was in the process of pulling away, letting my head fall back to the ground, and thinking up how I could get out of this very awkward situation when he pressed back.

The kiss was just as chaste as mine was, but it sent a thrill down my body when I realized _he was kissing me_. My eyes opened wide in shock and I all I could see were those ocean blue eyes. They were on fire with emotions, telling me quite clearly that they wanted me and they wanted me now.

Eric moved his lips and I felt his teeth latch on to my bottom lip. It didn't hurt like Jess' bite did; it was more of a gentle press and tug, asking me to open up. It was unintentional that I did, gasping when he nibbled because of the bolt of pleasure and excitement that shot through me, but Eric certainly took it as permission, sweeping his tongue in.

I moaned quietly, closing my eyes as the warmth and taste of the man above me invaded my mouth. All my other senses shut down except for taste and feel as Eric's tongue gently glided across mine. I carefully mimicked the movement and was thrilled when Eric rumbled his pleasure and more firmly caressed my tongue, angling his head over mine for more ease.

He tasted like spice. Hot and popping against my taste buds but at the same time soothing in the layer of warmth he in his tracks. It was the epitome of Eric gathered and compressed into taste and I had all of it for me to lap up. That thought sent a shiver down my spine.

Another moan escaped me as Eric moved on to explore my cavern, tracing over everything he could find. Struggling to keep up so he wasn't disappointed at my inexperience, I moved to do the same to him, shuddering as my tongue tasted and touched the sharp edges of his teeth and pet the base of his tongue. As I got a crash course lesson in how to kiss, my body naturally moved on its own. My hands moved from where they were on his shoulders and up his neck, slowly taking in the flexing and strong muscles just under the skin, over his jaw, and up into his hair, threading my fingers tightly with those thick strands so he couldn't leave me. My legs, once lying flat and straight, came out and up, planting my feet on the floor and spreading my knees so Eric could settle better and more intimately against me. He does so lightly, not quite dropping all of his weight on me no matter how I wished he would.

I whimper when Eric pulls back from the kiss, panting and heaving for breath. A strong shiver works its way through my whole frame as I take in the completely new expression on the man I loved. With the way he was holding himself above me his hair came down and framed his face, casting it in faint shadows, but I could easily see his _aroused_ face. His eyes were darker than I'd ever seen them, almost black, and half lidded as he watches me. His lips were parted slightly, panting to catch his own breath and they were wet and glistening with evidence of what we'd just done. Everything compounded just said '_I want_' to me.

I'm just barely starting to catch my breath when he leans down and presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth, dark eyes holding my own. "That was your first kiss, wasn't it?" he rumbles deeply in a husky heady tone that makes me shiver faintly. I nod, face flaming and lips throbbing faintly as I begin to scratch and massage his scalp where my fingers are still tangled. A purr suddenly comes from his chest, vibrating straight into mine. "Good," he murmured possessively. Then he's kissing me again.

I whimper as he enters my mouth with a bit more speed and strength then last time, but I open and welcome him all the same. His tongue immediately goes to mine and starts pressing and rubbing it. My foggy mind memorizes the movements before attempting the same things. My chest practically explodes when he hums his approval and I just get lost in the pleasant wash of warmth, spice, and pleasure. Dear god it was so good. I wanted to be constantly doing this.

Then a piercing whistle reaches my ears and startles me out of my haze. Eric pulls back with a growl and we turn in synch to see Ironhide and Ratchet, standing at the base of the stairs with happy, smug looks, Gabe was the one with his fingers in his mouth, apparently having whistled, and Ratchet was holding up his phone and pointing the camera lens at us. I smile, glowing with happiness at them. "I want the pictures, Ratch'," I call, voice rough from the make out session I'd just had.

"Already sending them," he reports before turning and pushing Gabriel up the stairs. "Be safe!" he calls as they disappear from sight.

Eric huffs. "Nosey, shameless roommates," he grumbles, glaring at where they'd been. "I'll kill 'em. Slowly and painfully and—"

"Later?" I asked, turning his head with the hands I still have in his hair and smiling sweetly up at him. "I still feel like I have a lot to learn."

The devilish smirk on his face makes my stomach heat up and something twitch in my pants. He presses a swift kiss to my lips. "What kind of boyfriend would I be to not teach you?"

"A bad, bad one," I answer, eyes falling half shut as I lean up to nibble on his bottom lip the way he had. He chuckles but opens up, allowing me to initiate the kiss this time.

I could die happy.

Chasing the Flame

Chasing the Flame

"You stay on my ass, got it?" Jazz asked, pointing at the part of his body in question.

I bounced on my toes, excited grin on my face. "Got it," I answered, following the short man as he walked down a couple of alleys.

The serious face on my friend melted into an indulgent smile. "That excited to get out here and learn to use your wings?" I nodded wordlessly, clapping my hands in front of me before swinging them behind me and clapping them again. Jazz chuckled. "Alrighty. I suppose here is as good a spot as any. Now, when we're on patrol we don't always stay on the ground. Sometimes we can see better if we're up on the roofs or sometimes Starscream and the other 'Cons take the high ground. The point is that sometimes we have to go up in a hurry. That's where our wings come in handy." He points up and I follow it to see the edge of a three story apartment building. "We're going up there, but you need your wings in order to make the jump."

"Awesome." I rub my hands together as I focus on the lip of the building, thinking very loudly and believing that if I wanted to get up there my wings had to be in play. The cord was struck and I felt the familiar sensation of my wings coming into existence and my strange, revealing clothes clinging to my body. Jazz called his wings out as well and it was a bit weird to see the tribal tattoo from his jaw and shoulders suddenly move and come alive, lifting away from his skin as his clothes changed in a faint wave of silver mist. The black, satiny, lined wings flared and waved languidly as Jazz tugged on his loose and shiny disco shirt with the plunging collar. "Up we go," he exclaimed before bending his knees and jumping up, wings moving in a flapping motion and actually carrying the man easily up the 30 feet to step over the lip of the building, disappearing from sight.

I gaped. Wow. And I could do that? I stopped gaping and shifted my stance, readying myself for the jump. The ancient knowledge, the Deep Memories as the others called it, had me bracing my wings in a ready position. Then I jumped.

I gasped as the wall zoomed right in front of me at a faster pace than I was ready for. My stomach dropped out of my feet as I wind milled my arms and leaned back, somehow ending up in a backflip. "Sonovabitch!" I swore, trying to get my bearings. How high up could I go? It was just a jump! A jump to the top of a three story building but a jump nonetheless.

"'Bee?!" Jazz's voice came over my headset. "What the hell?"

My Deep Memories flared and nearly wrenched my arms to spread out, stilling my frantic movements. My breath whooshed out of me as I registered what I was seeing. It was the city. About a hundred feet below me. And I wasn't falling. I was flying. "Oh my god," I breathed, freezing in place.

"Alex?" Optimus' called through the comm line, being the other person on patrol. "Alex, what's going on?"

"He's flying that's what's going on!" Jazz shouted with glee. "Holy shit, he's flying!"

"What?" Sebastian repeated from where I knew he was back at base on the computers. "Flying?"

"Alex?" Eric repeated.

"Oh crap," I whispered, finally finding the courage to move my body. Slowly, flexing my wings and leaning back, I righted myself from my horizontal position. "Uh. Wow. Nice view up here." Jazz started laughing. "Let's see…" I murmured to myself, heavily consulting my Deep Memories and going with what felt right. With painful slowness I leaned forward again and maneuvered my wings, sending me cruising through the air. "This is so cool! Jazz! Come fly with me!" I called while tilting and circling back, eyes straining to find Jazz's small form on a rooftop.

"Sorry, Bee. But I can't fly."

"What?" I demanded. "But you have wings."

"That doesn't mean we can fly," Ratchet cut in. "At the very least they allow us to bend the rules of gravity and at the very most, like with you and Starscream, you can fly like a little bird. Or little bee in your case." I could hear the humor and amusement in his voice. "Eric, get up there with your boy toy. Teach him to fly while Jazz continues on the patrol."

I smiled as I finally saw Jazz and heard him groan. "Aw, but Ratch'! It was supposed to be me teaching him how to use his wings. Not Prime!"

"Can you fly? No. Didn't think so. Get a move on, Collins."

It was then that I finally comprehended what Seb said. "Wait. Eric can fly?"

I felt a wash of heat suddenly come over my back and a warm breath on my ear. "Yes." A shout of surprise left me as I dropped a whole ten feet, nearly giving me a heart attack, before I gained clumsy control of myself and looked over my shoulder to see Eric flying down to me, flaming wings easily keeping him a loft with the ease of experience. "This is going to be fun," he purrs, carefully coming to glide with me just above my back. His hands reach down and grab my hip bones, fingers teasing lightly at my pants. "Oh, the ideas I'm getting." I _felt_ it when my smile turned from welcoming to heated. Yes, I could imagine some of his ideas.

Sebastian audibly gagged over the headset. "At least mute your mics if you're going to be that way," the doctor griped. "I don't want to know. But, Eric, I swear to Primus, if you two fall out of the sky because you got too 'distracted' I'm not healing you."

I pout when Optimus sighed and removed his hands. "You're right, Ratchet. Lessons first."

A delicate sniff. "When am I ever wrong?"

"Don't pout," Optimus suddenly said, swooping and turned over until he was under me, chest to chest. He lightly kissed and nibbled my bottom lip before laughing when I noticeably wobbled in the air. "You know what they say, Alex. Always be safe. You need to learn how to fly before we test your…focus."

"Is that a promise?" I asked, coming to a halt in the air. I grin into the kiss Optimus presses to my lips, purring happily.

"Yes." I laugh when he comes back around and skillfully comes to a stop an inch from me. "It's bad enough that I see you practicing or running around dressed like this," he tells me, brushing his lips against mine. "Do you have any idea how you look?"

My pout came back. "Like a male prostitute," I answer instantly. Eric leans back and laughs, deepening my pout. "Stop it. Not funny." I smack his chest.

He grins and tries to smother his laughter while bringing up his hands to trail them up and down my sides, nearly encircling my waist, and brushing his fingers across as much skin as they can reach. "You look ethereal," he corrects me finally. "Glowing and handsome beyond all belief. You look so tempting but also like you'd kill anyone who tried to touch you without your permission." I grumble, turning my head away to hide my blush at the compliments as my arms come up to cover my exposed midriff. Optimus' hands catch them and held them away as he leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek. "You look like a warrior of light. One I'm glad to call my ally and one I'm so lucky that allows me to hold him." His hands tighten their grip on my hips once more and he leans forward to catch my lips in a short but heated kiss.

I groan before returning it and spinning out his grip, flaring my wings and tucking my knees and arms in order to do the move. My grin is mostly because of the heated look that Eric watches me with, wings glowing brighter. "Thank you for the compliments," I tell him sweetly. "But lessons first."

Ratchet's laugh suddenly comes over the headset. "Hey, Bee! Did you know that our wings and appearances reflect who we really are? So, if you look like a male prostitute, what does that say about you?"

He dissolves into a fit of deep, loud laughing as I begin to fume. "Fuck you, Ratchet!"

Chasing the Flame

Chasing the Flame

"Would you like to have fries or taters with that?" I ask, glancing up from my notepad, pen poised and ready.

The woman scrunches up her nose in thought before shaking her head. "Neither. I think I'm going to kill my diet anyways with that roast sandwich."

A small smile touches my lips. Compliments never hurt when it comes to tips. "'Diet'?" I repeat in false surprise, not that she could tell. "Lady, you have the perfect hourglass shape. I don't see why you should be neglecting yourself like that."

She tittered and waved a hand at me, both of us ignoring the dirty look I was getting from her boyfriend. "You flatterer, you. Oh, alright. I guess I'll have some tatter tots." I nod and write that down, smiling my 'chocolate' smile as Optimus calls it. She melts under the attention and the glare from the boyfriend intensifies. "I'll have that right out for you. Your boyfriend is lucky to have you."

"He really is sweet," she agrees and I have to stifle a laugh when the guy puffs up in pride. Yeah, totally sweet. Taking her to a burger joint when she's on a diet. Yup. Best boyfriend in the world.

"Be back in a minute with your drinks," I assure them before turning on heel and making for the soda dispenser. "Roast sandwich with taters and a bacon burger with fries," I call into the window, pinning the note paper up for Marsha to check if she wants.

Dan is leaning against the counter as I walk up to get the sodas. "I saw what you did there," he drawled.

I blink innocently, glancing at the table to see if they could hear us, before smirking mischievously. "Jazz has been teaching me to flirt," I tell him, shrugging. "By teaching I mean taking me to cop stakeouts and using me to get information out of girls and guys on occasion." That was fucking hilarious. Jazz just pulls me from a car I'm working on, tells me to wash up and change before dragging me out and taking me to shady places. A few compliments and quickly taught inviting looks and Jazz would have the information he needed to make a bust in a matter of hours when he'd have to listen and linger for days on end before that. No one else had been amused. Except for Ironhide and me. We enjoyed watching them tear Jazz a new one and I looked forward to the next promised date to do it all over again.

Dan laughed and patted my shoulder. "You're a natural, kid. People just like you. And I like it when you get them to order more food."

I rolled my eyes and grabbed two straws. "I know you do, you greedy old man," I teased, leaving to drop the sodas off with a wink to the girlfriend.

As I left I heard the boyfriend growl something unhappily before the girl laughed. "Oh, relax! He's gay." I wasn't sure to be horrified because of all the crap at school or to smile because someone could actually see me enough to recognize it. Deciding to go off of whatever reaction I saw, I turned to see the boyfriend gazing at me in shock. I blew him a kiss, his face going beat red as his girlfriend broke out in laughter.

Dan was smiling as I came back to his side, picking up a towel to start drying cups and set them by the soda machine to be used later. "How would your boyfriend react if he saw you acting like that?" he asked teasingly. Have I mentioned that I was so glad that neither Marsha nor Dan were uptight, conservative, prudes? 'Cause I am.

"He'd either laugh or swoop me off to some undisclosed location to show me exactly who I belonged to." I leaned back on the counter, pressing the back of my hand to my forehead and pretending to swoon. "And then I would never be able to stand the touch of another man and would ride off into the sunset with him on our pearly white steed."

Marsha came up to the window with two plates of food. She took one glance at her husband, bent over and busting a nut in laughter, before giving me a mocking evil eye. "Don't break my husband," she warned.

I saluted before grabbing the plates. "Yes, ma'am," I snapped, doing an about face and going to give the young couple their food. The boyfriend refused to look at me, face still red. The girlfriend and I shared an amused look.

"What's got you in such a chipper mood?" Dan gasped as he wiped tears from his eyes.

I smile at him. "I'm just feeling happy and playful tonight. It might have something to do with the soda you gave me earlier. It might not."

Dan got a knowing look in his eye as he straightened. "Or it might have something to do with a long make out session before you got to work." I whistled innocently, stacking more cups. "Good on you, boy," Dan congratulated before sighing dreamily. "I remember when Marsha and I were in high school. We'd go to the old make out spot about ten minutes off of the bypass in the forest and spend hours there." I gaged and got a smack. "You whippersnappers still go to that place?"

"You mean Kissing Creak? I hear that going around school every once in a while."

Dan chuckled before going serious. "So I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."

My smile drops to a mere quirk of the lips. Maybe he wanted me to work more hours or lower my pay. "Shoot."

"I have a grandson coming up in August," he tells me and I look at him in confusion. Where was this going? "He's going to be living with Marsha and I for the year. My son has no idea what to do with him. He's your age, but…troubled."

I snort. "What teenager isn't?" I ask, getting an understanding nod in return.

"The thing is that his parents don't approve of his…sexuality. They're constantly riding the boy to get a girlfriend and Marsha and I think that that's making him act out. Street racing, fights, bad grades, and such."

I frown. "So they're just passing him off to you? What parent does that? At least my parents somewhat kept me around." It was just wrong in my mind. When a couple has a child their dedicating the next 18 and plus some to raising that child and making him a functioning adult. To just throw up their hands because he's gay and he's causing trouble doesn't sit right with me. "And what do you want me to do about him?"

The old man shifts his weight, looking uncertain for a moment. "Well, we hope to convince him to work here and he's already enrolled at your high school. Marsha and I were hoping you could…calm him down a little bit."

"You know that I'm in a relationship, right?" I inquire, cocking my eyebrow.

"No! Not like that." Dan splutters and waves his hands at me. "I wouldn't want to force any relationship. What I'm saying is…" He sighs, fussing with his sleeve cuff. "You're a good kid, Alex. A great kid. We were hoping that maybe you could help curb some of Rodney's attitude and show him that it's alright to be gay."

"Oh!" I exclaim, understanding what he originally meant by calming him down. "Yeah. I can't promise anything, but I'll make an effort and be his friend." Urg. That word did not sit right with me after the three douches.

"That's all I ask."

"So what's his name again? Rodney what?"

Dan digs in his back pocket, pulling out an ancient leather wallet. He opens it up and pulls out a photo, giving it to me. I dry my hands on my pants before accepting it. It's a picture of a teenage red head, scowling at the camera with green eyes flashing in anger and hate. I'm sure if he didn't have such an ugly expression on he would be cute with his floppy hair, soft features, and freckles dotting across his cheeks and nose. "His name is Rodney Velocidad. When he came to visit us when he was younger we called him Roddy, but I'm not sure what he goes by now."

"He's cute," I observe honestly, but with no interest, handing back the photo. "You said he was coming in August?"

"Yup. You don't need to worry about it for a while."

"I'm sure he's a nice kid," I assure him. "Just mistreated."

Chasing the Flame

Chasing the Flame

The next morning is Sunday morning. The Firebird is open seven days a week, but Sunday is by far the least busy. We'll maybe get one or two cars that day. Three at the most. But I was still up at five in the morning, doing my early morning practice. I'd found it was nice to relax and do some training before I went to school and I was determined to keep it a routine. Wednesday was the last day of school and I was so excited to finally have more free time.

I was just getting out of the shower at seven, thinking about the cars we'd kept overnight to work on in the morning and if I could get there early to get a jump start, when my phone chirped by the bathroom sink. I glanced at the screen and saw that it was Eric who texted me.

**Eric: Ratch' and Gabe will work the shop today. Dress in something nice but comfortable.**

A tiny smile touched my lips. What was with the vagueness? I typed out my reply. **Alright. What do you have planned?**

The response is almost immediate.

**Eric: Secret.**

I snort in laughter, pausing for a moment to pull on my pants. **You're horrible. Tell me please!**

My phone pinged again as I was pushing my shirt down.

**Eric: No.**

It pinged again almost immediately.

**Eric: I'll be there at 9 to pick you up.**

My amusement and curiosity is growing as I absently text back, ***pout***

**Eric: *kiss***

**Dork.**

**Eric: *kissykissykissy***

I roll my eyes and don't bother with a reply. He was acting very strange. Out of the house before seven o'clock and sending ridiculous texts? That man was up to something. Maybe it was a date? We were a week into our fledgling relationship, so maybe it was.

I glance down at what I'm wearing. Comfortable means jeans and nice means a good looking shirt. I could probably change my jeans into my black skinny ones and my shirt into the yellow flaming one. Eric always did like that shirt, which is probably why he got it for me.

I'm sitting in the living room, studying for my math final, when I hear Eric's Ford Atlas parking in the driveway. I would never get over the guys' love for their weird expensive cars. Ratchet had a customized yellow H2 hummer, Gabe had a black GMC Topkick, Eric had his massive red Ford Atlas, Jazz had his silver Pontiac Solstice Coup, and Prowl had this black mustang that was also the same model as the patrol cars used as the cops. I wouldn't dream of having such a fancy car until I'm well out of college, but I always did like Camaros.

I was putting up my books when the front door opens and Eric pops his head in, eyes immediately finding me. "Ready?" he asks, not even bothering to put a foot through the door. I nod and grin as he waves at me, already disappearing down the path. "Then let's go!"

"What's the rush, firebird?" I ask as I jog to the car for his sake.

"Not rushing," he tells me, eyes bright. "Just twelve cups of coffee."

I roll my eyes. "You're horrible. We might as well electrocute you in the morning. It'd have the same effect." He only leans over and presses a kiss to my cheek. Turning my head, I give him a quick peck. "Good morning to you too, but eyes on the road."

Eric grins and does as I order, blue eyes bright with caffeine and excitement. "So how was your morning?" he asks.

"Good. I got some studying in for my finals, but I don't think I'll have any problems with them."

"Did you ever get your SAT scores back?"

I smirk and nod. "Oh, yeah. 2140."

"That's incredible!"

The entire car ride we talk about menial things that are most certainly not about whatever Eric has planned for the day, no matter how I'm burning with curiosity as we leave the city altogether and make our way to a nearby town. It's about a 30 minute drive, so I make myself comfortable and try to think about what my boyfriend might have in store for me. Future ideas for dates I could take him on started spinning through my head and coming together. There was this car show coming to the city soon…

"Close your eyes," Eric suddenly commands as he takes an off ramp into the town.

I groan. "Aw! Come on, Eric!"

He grins and shakes his head. "You'll find out soon enough. Cover them." I grumble, muttering about how he better not try anything, as I reluctantly obey. I have my fun, opening my fingers obviously even as my eyes are closed and having Eric reach over to put his large hand over my hands, chiding me about cheating.

We take enough turns to make me feel thoroughly lost and without direction when he slows and pulls in somewhere. My smile grows as I feel him creep down what I think is a parking lot, turning with equal slowness before coming to a complete stop.

"Can I look now?" I ask excitedly, mind buzzing with where I could be. The word yes is barely out of his mouth before I'm opening my eyes and looking around quickly, trying to figure out what is planned. My eyes stick to a large banner that reads "GOKART RACING" and the large impressive track behind set up chain link fences. "We're going go cart racing?" I ask Eric, practically vibrating in my seat like I was the one who had 12 cups of coffee.

Optimus grins at my reaction, flipping his keys around his fingers. "Yes, we are."

I will never admit to maybe possibly probably most likely squealing like a little girl as I jumped out of the car, waiting impatiently for Optimus to join me. "I take it you like it?" he asks, amusement and apprehension in his eyes.

"Who doesn't love racing around really fast in tiny cars and almost no safety?" I demanded, tugging him towards the entrance. "Thank you for this. But don't think that I'll go easy on you."

Heat flashes through his eyes as he pulls me back to him, holding me tightly. "Don't ever go easy on me, 'Bee. I'm going to enjoy every single challenge you give me." My mind is a bit preoccupied to look and see the meaning behind his words, if there is any, when he kisses me.

I hum as he pulls back, eyes hooded as he straightens. "Do I get one guess as to what's on your mind?" I tease, skipping back when he releases his hold. "What's my prize if I'm right?" I give him what Jazz taught me was a 'saucy' smile.

It makes me feel a tad bit powerful to see Eric's eye darken in reaction to my words and look. "Careful where you throw that smile," he growls.

I dodge out of his reach when he goes to grab me again. I wag a finger at him, "Now, Eric. There are children around and we are in public." He growls again when I turn and walk to the entrance.

Two hours later I'm hanging off Eric's arm as we exit the track, cheeks warm from the wind of racing and with a head of helmet-hair. I laugh as Eric tries to fix his hair, getting it worse than me due to its length. "Come here," I command, going on tiptoe to reach up and brush my fingers through his tangled and mushed locks. "One of these days I'm just going to sit on you and play with your hair," I tell him as I tug his bangs back into their place and run my blunt nails across his scalp, pushing his hair to obey me.

"You can play tonight," he offers. "But only if I get to give you a back scratch."

I shudder at the thought and moan. "I'm pudding at your feet."

"I'd rather eat the pudding."

My face goes red at the images and thoughts that brings to mind and I tug one of his bangs in retaliation. "So where to now?" I ask. "Home or do you have another surprise for me?"

Eric grins as he lifts his head away from my hands and muses with my hair briefly. "The latter," he tells me. "We're going to lunch. What are you feeling like right now?"

"Chinese," I answer instantly, stifling the urge to grimace at the amount of money he was spending on me. Getting in a two hour round at the race track was 30 bucks all on its own and lunch would probably be another 30. I was going to have to figure out a nice way to repay him. "And the real stuff with the spice."

"That's easy," Eric admits. "There's a little Chinese place just down the road. Maybe you and I can talk Ratchet into getting more takeout?"

I snorted as we moved back to the truck. "He'd want to know every little ingredient that goes into the food before he even considered saying yes. But it'll probably be worth it. In the city there's this place that my father would go and get food from. It was amazing. Dan's Diner is also good for burgers. The grind their meat right there in the kitchen and get fresh ingredients every morning. I could probably convince Seb to go out there now that I think about it."

"You'd have one up on Jazz," Eric tells me. "He's been trying to convince Sebastian for years to eat out. Last time he tried Ratchet threw a wrench at him."

I grimaced. "Hopefully I'll be able to avoid such a gruesome end."

Chasing the Flame

Explanation time. Overall: I felt like there needed to be more Eric/Alex relationship and finally get to the juicy bits.

The first oneshot: It needed to start somewhere, so I went for the cliché "the guy falls on the girl and they start making out". And the whole house is shameless. Yay for smoochies!

The second oneshot: Another relationship thing and one of my things. I've given you guys pictures to show how Bee looks as best as I can and I can't help but imagine how Optimus would see Bee. In my opinion, he'd have trouble keeping his hands on the blond. And I wanted Bee to fly. Fuck whatever rules there are in this AU about flying or whatnot, Bee was going to fly like Starscream and I threw in Optimus to make this scene work. Bee flying has actually played into the plot in the future, making my life easier. So I'm going to keep that fact.

The third oneshot: Did you guys catch the hint? *nudge nudge*. Didja? Tell me if you did!

The fourth oneshot: le sigh. Well, I couldn't have the relationship between the two be just sec and kissing so I threw in a date. I have a go-kart thing that comes around my town every year and I still haven't gone. *pout*. I wanna go!

So, yeah, a bunch of oneshots. Not really needed for the story, but they do have important facts for this story and the sequel (THE HINT!). Hope you guys liked them! I'm about to post the second chapter for today that has the actual plot (not really but it's something). So, see you guys in a few minutes!

Leave a review and tell me what you think and remember to go check out sleepyoldvamp on DeviantArt!


	14. Chapter 14

Hello again! Second chapter of the day like I promised. It's a long one, so I hope you like it!

CHAPTER WARNINGS: FIGHTING, VIOLENCE, BLOOD, MEDICAL PROEDURES, SEXUAL HARRASSMENT, YAOI (No smut, but kissing, cuddling, fluff).

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DeviantArt

Plot and OCs © me

Chasing the Flame

I rubbed my eyes as I leaned back in the chair, Coke in one hand and AP European History textbook in the other. It was somewhere around one o'clock in the morning and I was on monitor duty again. My date with Optimus earlier today had ended well. I really was going to have to trump him and hopefully when I brought up the car show he would show some interest. Ironhide had hinted at Eric's love of big cars and I hoped to use this knowledge to its full extent.

My eyes glanced up and did a cursory check of the monitors. Nothing of interest. A yawn escaped me and I took another gulp of my second soda. My finals began on Tuesday with tomorrow really being a filler boring day. That meant that the most creative of insults and jabs at my sexuality would be made that day and I had a feeling that something was in the makings for the last day of school.

I blinked my eyes as I focused on the tiny words and the dry information. I don't know what possessed me to take the hardest AP class there was out there, but I most certainly wasn't taking it again. It sucked. Nothing against the teacher; it's just the information was so boring and hard to absorb. In fact, I struggled so much with the class that I was fighting an A- right now. I needed to get above an 80% on my final in order to get it back up to that A and keep my 4.0 GPA. So here I was studying while working the monitors, cramming and forcing myself to remember all this information. What I wouldn't give for an eidetic memory.

My head snapped up when one of the monitors beeped, flashing Cybertronian glyphs at me as the upper right hand section pulsed in brightness. I dropped my book carelessly to the floor and put my soda away, eyes not leaving the group of screens. My hands flew over the tiny glass panels and quickly brought up a map. It took me a second to understand what it was saying and when I did I reached up and unmuted my headset. "Hey, guys?" I called.

Jazz groaned. "I don't know anything about Sir Lancelot or what he did in the battle of whatchamacallit," he said immediately, referring to when I'd gotten frustrated earlier that night with my studying and started asking them questions not even Prowl knew the answer to.

The other police officer's voice came over the line as I brought up a map of their locations and compared it to the other map. "What is it, Bumblebee?"

My eyes widened and my heart raced. "Jazz, are you on 6th and Urban?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask? Is there a burglary going on near me?"

"Jazz, get out of there," I snapped, eyes tracing the closing circle around Jazz's beacon. "I'm tracking 23 anomalies moving in on your location."

"Anoma..." Jazz trails off and I hear the familiar sound of crystal chattering against itself faintly from Jazz's line. "Peons!" he growls. "Shit, Prowl. I need back up!" The pulsing sound of Jazz's pistols reached me, almost washed out by returning _thrumps_ of other alien weaponry.

"I'm coming. ETA: six minutes. Bumblebee, call the others."

"Got it," I reply, shaky hands digging my phone out of my pocket as I listen to Jazz fight and curse and watch as he's herded into a dead end alley with peons on the roof and blocking his only exit. And Prowl, even if he moved as fast as he could, was way across the city. I hold my phone to my ear, muting my headset. "Come on, come on," I chant as the ringing seems to take its time. "Damn it, Eric!" I quickly dial Sebastian, knowing he was a light sleeper like me.

"Where's the fucking backup!?" Jazz snarls, sounding angrier than I've ever heard him before.

"They're not answering!" I shout back as I hear Seb's voicemail asking me to leave a message.

Prowl's soft breaths of exertion are lost in Jazz's background, but his voice isn't. "Keep trying, Bumblebee," he instructs calmly, though I can hear the tension in his voice.

My fingers nearly crack my screen as I dial Ironhide. "Please pick up," I beg softly, standing up from my chair. My knees nearly give from fear when I hear Jazz cry out in pain. "Fuck this!" I shout when I go straight to voicemail on Gabe's phone.

"Bee, stay at base—" Prowl starts to order.

I'm already sprinting down the stairs, phone still pressed to my ear as I try Ratchet again. "I can be there in under a minute," I interrupt. "I can help until you show up."

"Alex, I'm telling you to stand down."

"And I'm telling you I'm gone!" My wings are already out and present as my desperate need to get to Jazz snaps them into existence. My feet leave the ground as I push my wings to go as fast as they can, skimming over the rooftops, movements jerky and lacking the grace I'd seen Eric fly with.

I see the flashing red lights and I 'subspace' my phone to the same place my normal clothes disappear to when I change. I don't need my Deep Memories to reach out and grab my yellow knives again from thin air, diving down and streaking towards the 'peons' lining the roof of the alley. To my surprise, they look exactly like someone with Cybertronian build, pointed ears, claws. But they're purple and shiny with their arms literally being guns or swords.

And they have no face.

I growl when Jazz's curse cuts off mid sound and I know he's been injured again. Even though I'm feeling pissed and scared all at the same time, I force myself to clear my mind as much as I can before I come to a stop behind two peons. They fall in a clatter of shattered crystal as I stab them in the back.

Some of the nearby peons heard the sound and turn, aiming their guns at me. My Deep Memory comes up when I freeze slightly at the sight of loaded guns pointed at me with the intent to kill and pushes me into a complicated series of flips, handsprings, twists, and dives as shots zoom past me. I couldn't help but think of how unsuited I was for fighting against guns. My knives and martial arts made me primarily a close range fight, which meant I had to dodge a whole bunch and use up a lot more luck in order to slip closer and take them down with a flick of my wrist. Thankfully, they didn't seem to be very good shots and unable to predict where I was going with my erratic movements.

"Keep it up, Bee!" Jazz calls and I hear him from both my headset and from below in the alley. I only grit my teeth harder to keep my emotions down and away from my judgment. It was harder to do in a real life fight than it was in a spar. I didn't have a life possibly hinging on my ability to take some fire off his back when I was sparing. I didn't have deadly plasma shots just barely missing me when I was sparing. I didn't have ten enemies moving in on me when I was sparing. And everything about that made me want to either be scared at my inexperience in such a situation or furious that I was scared.

I was moving to strike out at a backpedaling peon when a green plasma bolt soared past my face and hit him square in the chest. In my spark, my chest, I could just sense the calm pool of Prowl's spark as he started sniping from a distance.

"I've got the ones on the roof," the stoic man tells us.

"I'm moving behind the peons," I announce, sprinting for the roof edge closest to the street before jumping down.

"Fish in a barrel!" Jazz calls as I begin to pick them off from behind and he shoots them from in front. A laugh escapes me despite my desperate grip on my emotions. It's easy pickings as Jazz said and I finish off the last peon with a quick double stab to the gut before swinging around in a roundhouse kick, knocking the peon's head clean off.

"Clear," Prowl reports from wherever he was situated.

"Clear," Jazz adds.

I take one last look around. "Clear," I repeat before fading away my knives and running down the alley, eyes darting for Jazz. He steps out from behind a dumpster and a doorway and I rush to him, taking in the burn on his shoulder and how he was holding his side. "How bad are you hurt?" I demand, hands shaking slightly as I come to a stop in front of the man, unsure of what I could do.

"Ratch' is probably going to throw a fit," Jazz tells me with an easy smile. "Hey, Prowler!" he greets as his partner drops down from the roof.

"Call Ratchet, Bumblebee," he orders me as he dissolves the sniper rifle in his hands and helps Jazz sit down.

"Right." I pull my phone and dial the doctor again. I curse softly as I go straight to voicemail in the exact same way Gabe's phone did. "Ironhide and Ratchet have their phones off," I tell the cops before dialing Eric. My shoulders sag when the ringing eventually stops and I get his voicemail again. "No one is answering."

Prowl nods and waves me over. "You'll get to base faster than I can. Jazz can tell you where Ratchet keeps his medical supplies. I'll keep trying to raise the others."

Jazz scoffed. "Really, Prowl. I'm not all that badly hurt. I can get there just fine on my own."

His partner ignores him and looks to me. "Do you think you'll be able to fly with another person?"

I shrug. "Never tried it, but I'm certainly going to try."

"Really, guys?" Jazz groans. "This isn't necessary."

Following Prowl's lead, I ignore the Jamaican and walk forward, leaning down and helping him stand up. "Put your arms around my neck," I instruct, trying to figure out how to best position Jazz so we could fly easier. My hands wind around his waist, careful to steer clear of the rapidly flapping tribal wings.

"Uh. No. I'm not doing this. You can't make me. I swear to Primus, Bee, if you don't let go of meEEEE!" Jazz screams as I tighten my grip and launch myself up into the air.

I notice the difference immediately from my past flights. My wings strain to defy gravity so much that I have to push off the edge of a building in order to get my proper altitude. Jazz curses and wraps his arms and legs around me tightly. "Watch the wings!" I hiss when he hits one of my curved metal appendages. I don't think he heard me. He kept chanting and whispering in French and Spanish, burying his face in my chest. It's a definite contest of wills with gravity to see who would win. Gravity definitely would've been the victor of our battle if I'd stayed in the air much longer. As it was I landed behind the Autoshop and, since I couldn't coax Jazz to let me go, I carried the grown man all the way upstairs as best as I could. "We're here, Prowl," I report even as he keeps speaking in French to Jazz.

"Down the hall, first door on your left." I speed walked to the mentioned door and opened it up to a wide and sterile room. It reminded me of one of those hospital rooms you see on TV; long with about four or five beds just lined up along the wall. Except these beds weren't the thin, elevated gurneys of a hospital but luscious looking King-sized beds with their own cabinet and set of machines waiting silently next to each bed. I swear Eric was loaded if he could afford all these beds and the equipment.

I moved to the nearest bed and try and place Jazz down, but he refuses to let me go, babbling louder in another language and clinging tighter if that was at all possible. Man, I really must've scared him. Hesitantly, I bring up a hand and pet his braids while my other hand came up and careful rubbed between his whipping wings. "It's alright, Jazz," I murmur, putting a knee on the bed so I didn't fall over trying to let Jazz feel the bed beneath him. "You're safe. I promise. We're on the ground and at base. Nothing's going to happen. You're safe now." I tried to keep my words as comforting as possible as the man slowly started to quiet down, though I had to fight against another surge of emotions when I felt something trickle down my exposed side.

"You can look, Jazz. We're in the medical room. Safe and sound. Go ahead and look. It's fine." Oh so slowly, Jazz lifted his head and cautiously peeked around the room, sagging in obvious relief when he saw I was telling the truth. "I'm just going to put you down, okay? And we're gonna patch you right up. I'm not leaving you. I'm just going to go get a few things."

My hands come up and carefully pull apart the grip he had on my shoulders and neck. He's not happy to be letting me go, but he lets me pull him off. "There we go. See? That wasn't too hard." He just sorta curls up and starts muttering in French. I'm about to demand why Prowl wanted me to fly Jazz when it was obvious that flying terrified the man when I saw the blood darkening his entire right side and part of his right thigh. I resist the urge to curse out loud or run around looking for supplies because I had a feeling that would set Jazz off; instead, I turn to the cabinet standing by the bed and open it, looking for anything useful. My hands immediately grab the basket of gauze, a case labeled "sedation injections", and some gloves. "He's losing a lot of blood, Prowl," I report, struggling to stay cool and detached.

"I know, Bumblebee," the police officer soothes, his voice showing a bit of emotions as he seemed to pick up my fight to remain calm. "You're going to need to put pressure on the wound and clean up the area around it as best as you can. Don't put too much pressure or you'll hurt Jazz and don't use too little pressure or you'll be doing nothing at all. I'm going to be there in just a minute."

Dropping off the stuff on the bed side table, I snap the gloves on and tear open a few of the largest gauze pad packets. "Have you gotten a hold of Ratchet?" I ask as I do this. "He's coming, right?"

"Yes, he's coming. He's on his way now."

I sag in relief as I turn to Jazz, gauze in hand. "Good." Carefully, eyeing the man currently under my care, I lean forward and press the pads to his bleeding side. The reaction is instantaneous. Jazz jolts and stiffens, hissing like a cat while trying to get me to remove my hands. "Sorry!" I cry out, leaning to the side so my back is between Jazz's hands and mine. I wince and grimace as his hands bat at my wings and move them to fold delicately down my back to be as out of the way as they can. "I'm sorry, Jazz. Bear with me." When I was sure I had a good hold on his side, praying to whatever God there was that I was using the right amount of pressure, I removed one hand and reached blindly for one of the packets of alcohol wipes. Opening it with my teeth, I then set to wiping the blood around the wound as much as possible, which is difficult given the Jazz's shirt is in the way. I curse myself for not removing the shirt before struggling to rip the tear wider with one hand.

Prowl walks in just as I'm beginning to clean up the area again. "How is he?" he asks firmly but kindly, demanding an answer as his wings spread out behind him.

"In pain?" I offer uncertainly. "He's still conscious though he hasn't said a single word to me."

The other man nods as he moves to the machines, flicking one on and clipping a pincher thing on one of Jazz's fingers. The screen instantly lights up with his heartbeat, blood pressure, and whole bunch of other things as Prowl wheels over a light and turns it on, highlighting the bloodstained side and my hands in gruesome detail. "We're going to have to give him stiches," he informs me, putting on gloves and going to the cabinet to get whatever he needed.

I balk. "Shouldn't we wait for Ratchet? He can heal him up in a second."

"Ratchet isn't coming." I stare at the man in frozen terror as he comes back around with a basket of supplies. "We need to do this ourselves."

"What?" I rasp, fear beginning to overwhelm me. "But…But I've never done anything like this! What if we mess up? What if we miss something? Jazz will die! We need Ratchet. We need to keep trying to—"

"Bumblebee." The sound of my designation snaps me out of my panic and I look up to see Prowl reaching for me. I flinch out of long suppressed memory even as he gently winds he hand behind my neck and leans forward to press his forehead to mine. His cool grey eyes are all I can see now and they hold mine in a trance. "Stay calm," he orders softly. "Jazz will be fine. I'm here and I know what I'm doing. Just don't panic. Can you do that?" I nod. "Good." He pulls back. "Move your hand and give him a sedative while I get the needle ready."

"'Kay." The gauze doesn't want to be removed and I have to peel the dripping red cloth away, causing Jazz to moan in pain. "Sorry, sorry!" I whisper before turning and throwing the gauze in a nearby waste bin. "It'll be alright, Jazz," I tell him as I fish out a syringe, though I wasn't sure if I was reassuring him or me. My hands shake only a little as I pull the cap off the needle and stick it into arm, pushing the plunger down. "It'll be alright."

Prowl turns to me from where he's wiping the edges of the six inch gash on Jazz's side. "Bumblebee, I need you to hold the edges of the wound together. The process won't hurt him as much then." Wordlessly, I lean over Jazz and rest my hands on either side of the red, wet-looking wound. I carefully put more pressure on the wound and the edges came closer together. Jazz moaned and I was grateful that Prowl was waiting patiently for me to do this, sensing that I didn't want to hurt the injured man. "Good," he finally calls and I freeze. I watch as he leans down, needle glistening in the bright lamp. "Don't move."

I watch with fascination as the needle goes through Jazz's skin, through the cut edges of his gash, and up and out the other side. Jazz twitches and mutters something, but otherwise doesn't move. I begin to relax as Prowl goes for the second stich.

Jazz screams and bursts into movement. I curse, diving to pin his legs as Prowl drops the needle in favor of trying to grab Jazz's flailing arms. One of Jazz's knees comes up and nails me right in the eye, and I grit my teeth against the pain, moving to get a handle on the wayward limb. But despite our somewhat good grips on Jazz he continues to heave and thrash, causing even Prowl to struggle to hold his partner.

"I sedated him!" I shouted, pushing my weight further on to the kicking legs. "He should be knocked out."

Prowl grunts noncommittally before saying, "Bumblebee, finish the stiches."

"What?" I nearly shriek.

Grey eyes swing back to me, steely in determination and the willingness to do what was needed. "Pick up the needle and finish the stiches. He's only hurting himself by doing this and he'll lose too much blood if we wait much longer."

I look at the adult desperately before bending under his will. Moving as fast as I could, I threw a leg over Jazz's and straddled his thighs, clamping down to keep him from moving too much. I find the black thread that's in Jazz's side and trace it to the needle. Picking it up, I look at the wound at a loss for what I should do. Not even my Deep Memories were helping me.

Get a hold of yourself! You need to help him! Just look at Prowl's stich and mimic it. Not that hard. Now do it!

Taking a deep breath, I position the needle and push it down, stiffening when Jazz yowls in pain. Calling up my memory of watching Prowl do this, I pull the needle through the wound and up and out, pulling on the thread to bring the two sides closer to each other. Vaguely, I can hear Prowl murmuring in French to a hissing and fighting Jazz, but I'm focused too much on the task entrusted to me. I would not screw this up. The needle goes in again.

As I'm nearing the end I can feel Jazz's efforts to get free weakening, but he still whimpers in pain and fear. It makes my spark flash and flare like a sun to hear the sound coming out of the man and know that I was the one causing the pain. I look up at Prowl, who's still bent over Jazz and trying to talk to him, and ask, "How do I finish?"

"Pull the thread taut and tie a knot near his flesh. Then cut off the excess," he answers before going right back to whispering to his partner. I follow his instructions to the T, though I struggle a bit to tie the knot in the proper place, and without any scissors in easy reach I lean down and use my teeth to cut the thread. There. Done. And it didn't look too bad. The spacing between each stich wasn't even, but it didn't look like I'd pulled too tight or too loose. Prowl, sensing that I'd completed my task, speaks up. "Put a gauze pad over the wound and grab a roll of it to wrap around him to keep it in place."

Easy enough. It's a bit awkward having to push my arm under Jazz's back in order to loop the roll around him, but I do so as neatly and quickly as I can, tying off the end in a knot so it didn't come loose. "What now?" I ask, hoping and praying that he'll tell me that we were done.

I wasn't that lucky. "Go to the silver refrigerator at the end of the room and grab a bag of AB positive blood as well as a transfusion kit." The only reason that I didn't protest was because I deluded and chanted to myself that Prowl would do this. I wouldn't need to stick another needle into one of my best friends. Nope. Prowl could do it now that Jazz was moderately calm. My heart sank when the conscious police officer didn't even look at me and asked, "Do you know how to hook up an IV?"

"I've seen it on TV, but—"

"Good. Do it."

A whine leaves my throat, but I refused to back down from making sure my friend got better. I refused to panic and become useless and incapable. Blinking my eyes at the tears the fill them briefly, I pull over one of those coat-hangers on wheels that I knew doctors used to hang the IV bags on and hooked the red liquid bag on one of the hooks. For now, I didn't attach the transfer just yet and let the bag hang there as I got out the strip of rubber. My mind struggled to call up the rare TV show I watched where the doctor would do this. I tied the rubber around Jazz's bicep tightly, working under Prowl as I did this, and looked at the inside of Jazz's elbow expectantly. It was a relief to see a series of color veins appear against the pale skin, especially the thickest one. I guess that was the one I would stick the needle in.

I got out an iodine wipe and cleaned the area liberally before unraveling the length of rubber tubes with a needle stuck on the end. Taking the protective cover off, I leaned over Jazz's elbow and stretched the skin taut with my free hand as my other one brought the needle closer. Holding my breath to avoid moving my hands, I set the pointed tip over the skin of the largest vein and then pushed down, sliding the needle forward as I did so. Thankfully, Jazz didn't even twitch and I took a second to make sure the needle was actually in the vein before quickly grabbing the other end of the tube and attached it to the hanging tube of the blood bag. Screwing open the valve in the blood bag, I watched as blood raced down the clear tubes and straight into Jazz's arm. Sighing in relief when nothing seemed to be wrong, I got out a roll of vet wrap and a cotton ball and I used both to secure the needle to Jazz's arm.

I stood back and looked at everything I'd done. The bandage on the Jamaican's—and probably French Creole if his accent and use of language was anything to go by—side looked firm if a little bulky but with no signs of blood seeping through. The blood drip looked like everything I could call up from memory and seemed to be working just fine.

"I'm done," I told Prowl, fisting my hands against tremors. "What is there to do next?" Please tell me I can go. Please tell me I can leave. I don't want to be here. I hate having to hurt Jazz in order to make him better.

The police officer glances down at my handwork and nods. "Very good job. If you feel up to it, do you think you can listen as I walk you through how to care for his burn?"

My shoulders slump unseen. I couldn't say no to that. It wasn't a question to me; it was a request. "Yeah," I breathe in the silence of the room, only broken by Prowl's murmurs, Jazz's random coherent word, and the beeping of the machine.

I'm just finishing up wrapping Jazz's shoulder as Prowl told me to do when I hear a car come to a speeding stop behind the shop. I look over my shoulder and see that its 2:33 in the morning. "I guess they got our messages," I murmur as I slowly and gently unrolled the gauze.

"Yes. About time," he says in a soft and caring voice, belaying the irritation and anger in his words.

I snort a bit. "My first night out and it goes so well, don't you agree? I'm surprised you haven't yelled at me yet for actually going out there." My eyes flick up and look at the stoic man bent over who I hoped would soon be his boyfriend.

"You already know what you did wrong," he replies, looking up to meet my eyes. "But if you hadn't have been there Jazz would've been in worse condition. I could not have gotten there as fast as you did nor could I have gotten him here to get the medical treatment he needed as fast as you did. You were able to minimize the damage and harm he could've taken. So thank you."

I look down and blush at the heartfelt words before resuming my task as feet thunder up the stairs.

"Alex? Prowl? Jazz?" Optimus calls.

"In here," I holler back a bit quieter given that Jazz was nearly asleep and Prowl was looking ready to let his partner go soon.

The three men instantly appear in the doorway and Ratchet is already moving over to us in doctor-mode. Prowl begins to rattle off a bunch of medical jargon as I step back, having secured the bandage on Jazz's shoulder. I watch as Ratchet pokes as the needle in Jazz's arm and takes a look at his readings while I sigh and wipe my forehead with the back of my gloved hand, leaving a smear of blood if the caking coldness I felt was true. Ironhide moves to stand at the foot of the bed as Eric comes up to me. "Report," he orders softly and kindly as he looks me over for any injuries. I explain the situation as I move to throw away my gloves. Eric nods and turned back to Ratchet, who was looking at my stiches. "Will he be alright?"

The medic nods and begins to rewrap his patient. "He'll be alright. I'll heal him up as soon as his blood is replenished and he'll be right back to risking his life again."

"Good."

Ironhide suddenly growls, making me jump and swing to look at the large man, who was glaring at me. I shrunk where I stood, dimming my yellow aura glow unconsciously in the instinctive hope that I would disappear. "What were you thinking?" he hisses, stalking over to me with heavy footsteps. I'm backing up before I even know what I'm doing. "I told you that you weren't supposed to go out under any circumstances. Does your puny mind understand why I told you that?"

I flinch when my back hits a wall and flinch again when Ironhide's hand clamps down on my shoulder and squeezes hard. Not hard enough to bruise, but enough to get my attention. "Because I'm the least experienced. Because I'm easy pickings in a fight," I answer quickly, tears coming to my eyes. I didn't want this. I just wanted to go home and go to bed. Can I go home please? "Because I'm the weakest." Then I think about what Prowl had said and how desperate I'd felt when I'd heard Jazz in pain over the headset. "But I wasn't about to just stand around and let him get hurt!" I exclaim, straightening up from my hunched position and looking up at Ironhide defiantly. "I wasn't just going to sit here and hope that Prowl would get there in time and that Jazz would be okay. I wasn't going to do that when I could do something to help!"

"That's not for you to decide!" Gabriel roars, looking every bit the fallen angel he was named after minus the wings. "You could've easily made the situation ten times worse. You could've been shot or hurt and then Prowl would've had to lug both of your asses back to base because of you."

"But that didn't happen!" I cried out. I wouldn't let him tell me that what I'd done was wrong. I was right in leaving. I was right in disobeying orders and going to help Jazz. "Nothing happened to me. I helped them fight and get them back here safe."

Ironhide sneered. "So you got lucky. At any point in that fight Jazz or Prowl would've had to turn their back to the enemy just to make sure you were safe. They would risk themselves to make sure that you hadn't gone and done something stupid that could get you killed. They could've gotten hurt because they were too busy trying to save your green, reckless, arrogant, know-it-all, skinny little ass. They could've died because of you."

My breath catches in my throat and I stare up at him, hurt stinging my chest. No. I wouldn't…I could take… A wounded sound leaves my throat and I hear Eric snap, "Ironhide."

The man in question steps back and releases me, letting me see Optimus Prime walk up to me with an irritated and angry look on his face. "Bumblebee," he starts and I feel my stomach sink at the tone in his voice. I'd heard that tone before. It meant bad things were coming. "I think I speak for everyone when I say that you are not to risk your life for any of ours."

I splutter, flipping from hurt and sad and stunned to shocked and angry and indignant. "W-What? No!"

"Are you refusing to obey an order?" he demands softly, narrowing his blue eyes and I knew that this was one of the moments when his patience was gone and he was coldly furious. At me.

Something in me quailed and quivered at the thought, but I wouldn't let him enforce such an unfair and ridiculous rule on me. "I'm refusing to even listen to that order," I answer, standing up straight so he could read from my body language that I wasn't backing down from this. "So you guys get to risk your lives for me and fight for my life when you won't allow me the same courtesy?" I demand, waving a hand at the gathered Autobots and tapping my chest as I hold his gaze, hoping he could see me begging him to understand and listen. "It doesn't work that way, Eric."

Challenge flashed in those ocean eyes, the exact opposite of what I wanted. He comes to a stop, toe to toe with me and glaring down at me. "I am leader of this team and I will not allow any dissent in my ranks," he growls. "You will obey my orders."

"The hell I will!" I cry out, anger beginning to overrule my wariness and fear of Eric like this. "You are my friends and family. I'm not about to let you keep protecting me and keep me from doing the same. That's not what family is."

"We are a team," he corrects coldly, fighting his will against mine. "We are an extension of the Autobot army and you will act as such."

"We're a family," I argue back. "And I won't leave any of you to suffer and get hurt. Not when I can do something."

I blink when Optimus suddenly straightens from where he had leaned down to almost press his nose to mine. He has this coldly shut off look. "And as leader of this team I won't allow any of my men to get hurt. That includes you. Until you start obeying orders you are forbidden from coming upstairs to base or going out past dark. You are only allowed to go from school to home and to the diner. Is that clear?" He turns and starts stalking away before I even answer.

I gape at him. "You're _grounding _me? You have no right!"

"I have every right," he snaps without looking back at me.

I shout in frustration, pulling my hair as I move to follow him. "Eric, please listen to me! You guys are my family. You are all I have left. I didn't sign up on this to be in the army. I signed up so I can protect you as best as I can. _All of you_. I've been given a second chance at making my life good. A chance _you_ gave me. And now you're denying me the right to protect my life? My family?" He only glances at my out of the corner of his eye and I can see the conflicting emotions behind the ice in his eyes. Maybe I could give it one last push and make him see from my point of view. I grab his arm and stop him from walking away, turning him to face me.

"Eric. I have nothing else in this world except you and the others. You are _mine_. If I lost any of you do you know what that would do to me?" I look away as tears fill my eyes and my spark spasms in pain at the thought, but I resolutely look back at my leader and boyfriend. "It would kill me. I _need_ support and I _need_ my family. I love all of you and if it means that I have to go against your every wish and make you hate me in order to make sure that you're safe and healthy then so be it." I'm fighting my need to cry as I whisper the last words, having to go quiet to avoid cracking my voice.

Please don't hate me, I beg silently as those ocean blue eyes look at me, a maelstrom of emotions. Please don't force me to disobey you. Please don't make me work against you. I just want to keep you safe and here with me. Is that too much to ask?

I'm startled when I'm suddenly pulled forward and squeezed against a rock hard chest as I hand comes up and cards through my hair. "I could never hate you," Optimus murmurs. "_We_ could never hate you." I bite my lip against a sob of relief at those words, but I bring up my arms to return the hug. "Alex, we love you too, but we could never see you hurt because of one of us."

"And you think I can take knowing I caused one of you to get hurt?" I demand hoarsely. "That I caused one of you to _die_?"

"No. No." Eric assures me. "We are a family even if we fight. It hurts all of us if anyone hurt. But you're the youngest of us and we all love you to death. We don't want you to get hurt."

Sniffing, I bury my face in his chest. "I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to fight. So did you when you offered. It's going to happen, Eric. It's best that you just accept it." Eric's response is only to tighten his hold and me and we stand there for a few seconds. I let all of the fear for Jazz, frustration that no one was answering their phones, terror that I might hurt Jazz, and anger at having an unfair order forced upon me wash through me. I shiver as it comes back in a tidal wave, trying to keep myself from breaking down. "Can we go home now?" I ask.

"I can stay here with Jazz," Ratchet offers in answer. "You did a good job, Alex. If you hadn't said anything about Gabe and Eric being assholes I would've said something."

Prowl hums from somewhere behind me. "The same could be said for me."

"Let's go home," Eric says. I nod easily and pull out of his arms, able to drop my wings for the first time since I'd left the shop.

But I couldn't sleep. Eric looked a bit worried when I headed for the basement instead of my room, but when I tell him that I just need to work off some steam before I can sleep he lets me go, reminding me that I have school in the morning.

I didn't think I would be down there long. I did feel tired even if I was twitching from everything that had happened and my mind whirling and aching from running over my memories of tonight. I didn't think I'd be down there practicing for long until my phone alarm goes off, ringing the alarm that would normally wake me to start getting ready for school.

I stared at my phone where it sat on the work bench, flashing and ringing. My brain refused to work for a long moment until the punching bag I was working on swung back and hit me, sending me stumbling a few steps. Still not really believing it, I picked up my phone and disabled the alarm, staring at the huge white numbers on the screen. "Shit," I groan, rubbing a hand over my face. "Great. Love it. Shower. Now." I was sweaty and gross and I didn't want anyone at the school taking a look at me and thing I'd gotten sweaty for an entirely different reason than that I was working out.

I go upstairs and turn into the bathroom, unsurprised that I don't see anyone awake yet. Normally I was always the first one up with the exception of Sebastian, who was probably still dealing with Jazz or had slipped in late and had gone to bed. Closing the door behind me, I strip off my shirt before a flash of red catches my eye in the mirror. I turn and stare in horror.

My entire left side is caked in blood. Jazz's blood from when I carried him and he refused to let go. I never noticed it because I got used to the feel while I was still Winged-Up and then I'd changed back into normal clothes that covered the blood. But instead of being dry and crusty it was dark in some spots and bright and runny in others, having been revitalized by the sweat from my workout. It was a disgusting image.

Turning my head away from my reflection and refusing to even think about it, I step under the hot water of the shower and scrubbed away everything clinging to my skin. The water was a disturbing brown as it washed down the drain. After a long, _long_ shower I finally stepped out, wrapped myself in a towel, and headed to my room to get dressed.

By the time I was done getting ready it was 6:30 and I didn't feel like I should linger around the house, so I grabbed a piece of toast and was on my way towards the door when it opened, letting Sebastian in.

I blinked in surprise at him, toast halfway to my mouth and he looked equally startled to see me. Then he frowned, eyes going sharp. "Did you sleep at all after you got home?" he suddenly demands.

The question gets me moving again and I squirm my way past him and out the door. "Nope." I popped the 'p'. "See ya later!" I call over his protests. 24 hours of being awake and counting. Damn, there was a reason teenagers didn't stay up longer than 20 hours at the most. It was a bitch and I could already feel myself getting cranky. Just stay calm, I told myself. Don't listen to anything anyone has to say, with the exception of teachers, and just daydream. But don't fall asleep. Don't leave yourself vulnerable like that. Think about every word before you say it and every little movement and you'll do fine.

It was the normal crap when I showed up. Students gave me looks and, because school hadn't really started and there weren't many people in the halls to shield them from sight, nobody shouldered me or participated in the passive harassment. I sat down in my seat by the window in the row farthest from the door and in the front row. This way I was close enough for the teach to see if anybody tried to do anything to me during class, I was limiting the number of seats around me, and I got the added benefit of a window view. It was the same seat in all of my classes if I could get there in time to grab the seat. Yet another measure taken to deal with the harassment and bullying.

My classes were all boring today; my teachers openly admitting that it was a time that we could socialize so the teachers could finish grades and putting them in the computer. So kids were clustering desks together, talking, and texting. This teacher didn't seem to care if we had our phones out today and I was slowly turning mine over in my hand, staring at the dark screen.

I was bored and tired. I needed something to keep me awake or else I'd nod off and texting the guys was something I could always do at any point in the day. But I wasn't sure if they would want me to text them after last night. After stewing over it all night in the training room I admitted to myself that while going out was the right thing to do it was also stupid and reckless. Ironhide was right. I could've been the cause of Jazz and Prowl's deaths if it wasn't for my luck.

So many scenarios and events played out in my head of how everything could've gone wrong. At any point the peons could've actually hit me and then my movements would be hampered, opening me up for more shots, and given that I would most likely make a sound Jazz would be distracted from fighting for his life, allowing the killing blow to be struck. Or, when Prowl showed up, I could've been incapacitated when I dropped behind the ground peons and then Prowl would've had to take his cover fire off the roof and onto the ground, leaving Jazz open for an attack from above once more. Or maybe I could've missed a peon waiting in the shadows when I'd called 'clear' and it took a cheap shot at Prowl when he appeared.

Sighing, I shook my head and gazed sightlessly out the window at the morning sun. All these possibilities played like a broken record in my head and I couldn't help but find it hard to breathe at the ramifications. What's the saying? The road to hell is paved with good intentions? In my desperate effort to help Jazz I could've very well injured or killed both of them and that was something I could barely conceive. I could imagine the crushing guilt from the blame and the grief and sadness of actually losing one or two of my family. Then the feelings got too much and I had to blink away tears, so I left the painful thoughts alone for the most part.

But, on the topic of painful thoughts, I couldn't help but review my performance that night. Gabe was right in that I got through on luck alone. Even now goose bumps raced across my arms as I thought of all the emotions I had been feeling last night. Fear, anger, determination, terror, indignation, shock, horror. They were all so potent and powerful to me and I could remember that all of these feelings kept a minute tremble in my body throughout all of the events. I had been scared. Scared for Jazz, scared for my own life, scared of hurting Jazz, scared of pissing off the others. And the thought occurred. If I'm going to be fighting by their sides in a matter of months and this is my reaction now how reliable am I really going to be to them? I would just be a liability if I got so scared or tense during a fight that I did something stupid and got myself or someone else hurt or killed. Was I ready, mentally and emotionally, to go into nightly fights for my life and the lives of others? It really didn't feel like it.

How was Jazz doing? I twitched a bit as the thought leapt into my head. Jazz couldn't be too angry if I was asking how he was, right? Worried, I unlocked my screen and was about to start texting when the bell to end second hour rang. I'll just save it for third hour. Maybe Jazz will text back and we could have a conversation and relieve my boredom.

I yawn as I stand up from my desk, putting my backpack over my shoulder. Exhaustion and fatigue were wearing down on me, but I could make it through the day. I was determined to. As long as I kept moving and didn't sit down for too long after school then I think I could get all the way through working at the shop. Thankfully I didn't have a shift tonight at the diner so I could just collapse on my bed after closing up shop.

Plan figured out, I strolled down the hall, moving to my next class. My awareness level shot up, though, when my hips were suddenly grabbed from behind. "What—" I started to demand when I felt someone's crotch press to my rear. And, so startled by someone doing this, another male student came up in front of me and pressed himself to my front, making a sandwich. "Let me go!" I shout, thrashing halfheartedly, eyes searching through the growing crowd for any teachers to make this stop, but there were no adults. I couldn't exactly go all out on these guys, I didn't want to be called on being in a fight, but I also didn't want to be here at all.

The boy behind me squeezed my hips painfully tight as he ground against my butt, making me stumble a step into the boy in front of me. "What's the matter, gay?" the boy behind me called so he was heard by everyone in the hall. "Isn't this what you do? Isn't this what you like?"

I smacked and pushed against the large boy in front of me, but he seemed determined to hold onto me as he roughly dragged his hands up my sides, twisting my nipples savagely and making me gasp in pain. "Have you ever had a real man before?" the boy in front of me asked maliciously. "Or have you only had other prissy gays in your ass?"

"Get off of me!" I snarl, glaring ten thousand deaths up at him as my hands were caught in one hand. "Don't make me hurt you."

The boy merely laughed and grabbed my jaw in one hand, tilting my head back uncomfortably. "We'll show you how a real man takes someone," he tells me proudly. "Wouldn't you like that?" I stiffen when his hand suddenly grabs me through my pants. For a moment, everything slows and I can see the horrible smirk spreading like oil across the boy's face. I can see the growing crowd in the hall and hear their laughs and jeers. They were enjoying seeing me molested? They were enjoying my pain?

Red hot fury spreads through my like lightning and my knee jerks up, nailing the groping asshole in the balls with everything I had. He goes down with a squeal of pain, holding himself protectively. Reaching over my shoulder, I grabbed the arm of the boy behind me and _heaved_, throwing the teenager twice my weight through the shoulder and into the lockers.

Silence reigns as I snarl and turn on heel, making for the doors of the school. Fuck this place and all of them. I wasn't going to stay here any longer.

So my feet carry me off the campus and deeper into the city where the skyscrapers tower over like ominous sentinels and I'm just another face in the crowd of commuters on foot. I refuse to let my brain work, shutting it down in favor or just looking down at my feet and putting one in front of the other. Maybe it was running away from my problems, but I didn't care. I'd had fucking enough of all the bullshit.

I don't know how long I've been walking when someone comes up to my side and puts an arm over my shoulder, pulling me close. My hidden spark had sensed Eric's just a few seconds ago, so I let it happen even if I didn't say anything. He didn't say anything either. He just walked with me. I didn't crack under the thought that he was waiting for me to talk like I did the first time with Marsha. It was actually the thought that he'd tracked me down from wherever I was in the city and was now content to stay with me however long it took for me to stop. That's the thought that had me stopping in that spot and turning to Eric, hugging him around the waist.

And everything poured out. I told him about what happened at school and what had been happening, making sure to tell him that while the childish acts didn't bother him the words hurt a lot more than they should. And then when I was coming to the end of how school had been hell on earth for the past few weeks I told him my thoughts earlier this morning, how it hurt so bad that I might be the cause of somebody getting hurt or killed. And, it hurt, but I told him how I didn't think I was ready to start fighting. I told him I didn't think I was ready to fully emerge myself into the life of an Autobot.

I didn't cry at all when I was talking. My words were rushed and strung together as it came gushing out in a torrent, but it was more of a light-headed relief that settled over me than the need to cry as I told my boyfriend everything. On any other day I don't think I would've exploded like this, but the combination of last night, no sleep, doubts, and the debacle in the school just made it too much too fast and I buckled under the weight of it.

Eric was a quiet soothing presence, nodding and petting my head and back as I let him in on everything on my mind right there in public. And when my words finally started to peter out he turns my face up and starts dropping all of these kisses all over my face, whispering that it would be alright and that he was here for me between kisses. I can literally feel my face relaxing under the litany of words and shower of affection and I soak it up for a long minute before going up on tiptoe and pressing my face into his neck.

"Thank you," I tell him, feeling him card his hand through my hair once more.

A kiss presses to the top of my head. "You never have to thank me for this," he said. "If you ever need to talk again come see me or one of the others. We'll listen."

A smile quirks at my lips as I lean back to look up at him, touched by his worried planning ahead. "You're the best. You know that, right?"

Eric leans down closer, eyes half lidded as he answers my silent request for a kiss. "It's nice to hear it," he replies softly before giving me a soft chaste kiss.

He licks lightly at my bottom lip, asking me to open up. I do so with a happy sigh, moving my arms from around his waist to link behind his neck, slanting my head so we can fit closer together. Where our first kiss was rushed and a bit frantic, this one is slow and warm. Eric tongue almost seems to hug my own, petting and caressing every side he can reach. I melt under the attention, returning it with my growing kissing skills, exploring the top of his mouth and sucking lightly on his tongue. He tightens his hold on my back in reaction before sliding his hands down and over my rear, lightly kneading that part of my body.

There's not a need to arouse in our actions. I can tell that much at least. It's more like a really good back scratch but in a more intimate manner; it's meant to soothe, relax, wash away bad thoughts, and tell each other that we were happy to be in each other's company.

We eventually come up for air and I nuzzle his little beard. "Time to go home?" I ask quietly.

Eric nods against my face, purposely dragging his scratchy beard over my cheek. "My car is parked the next street over," he informs me before putting that arm over and behind my shoulders while I worm an arm around his waist, leaning my head against his chest and letting him maneuver us around the busy streets. I nearly fall asleep in the car, but I'm just conscious enough to know when we get home and get moving, allowing Eric to take my backpack from me as I shuffle my way to the door.

I didn't think anyone else was at home given that it was in the middle of the day until I heard Gabe call my name. My eyes come up and watch as the large man approaches me, shoulders slumped lightly and eyes not meeting my own. Why did he look guilty?

"Look, kid, I wanted to apologize," he started, shifting his weight and stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I shouldn't have said that Jazz or Prowl could've died last night because of you. It was cruel and wrong. I didn't know how much you valued us as family and I'm sorry for accusing you like that."

He still wasn't looking at me. He still looked guilty. He still looked like a puppy waiting to be kicked—big bear puppy, but a puppy nonetheless—and that just wouldn't do. With my mind fogged from weariness and more than a little happy that Ironhide wasn't pissed at me, I suddenly leapt up and wrapped my arms and legs around the man in a koala-bear hug. His hands immediately came up and held my legs to keep me from falling. I rested my chin on his wide, muscled shoulder. "Thank you, but don't apologize for being honest. I need someone to tell me when I do dumb shit that could hurt someone." I patted his back with one hand. "All better now? Can we stop being guilty?"

My body vibrated faintly with Mr. Guilty Mountain's chuckles. "You have a strange way of forgiving people, Bee."

"Never did think that a simple 'It's alright' was sincere enough," I grunt as I release my impromptu tree. Eric's hand touches my back when I stumble back a step. I gave the veteran a sloppy salute. "I'm off to bed. See ya, Gabe."

"See ya, brat."

I'm not altogether surprised or displeased when Eric guides me past my bedroom door and towards his. His is the master bedroom with his own bathroom and larger space. I've been in here before to drag him out of bed and ready for the morning, but never once have I actually laid in his bed.

"I'll be right back," Eric tells me, waving at the bed in invitation.

I take it readily. Any bed is attractive to me right now and Eric's bed is doubly so. After kicking off my shoes I crawl into the middle of it, dropping down limply when I'd deemed that I'd gone far enough. I moaned in happiness as I turned and wiggled on the soft and cool comforter before reaching up and dragging a pillow down to hug to my chest and bury my face in. A giddy smile crosses my face as I breathe in Eric's warm, spicy scent that was only helped by whatever aftershave he uses. Mm mm, hotness.

I hear Eric come in and watch as he sets a tray with a plate of cookies and two glasses of milk down on his nightstand. Yummy, though that thought might have been caused by Eric bending over slightly to put the tray down and giving me a side view of his strong body. I didn't know what was better, sugary sweet cookies or Eric's physique and body.

Then he was tugging the pillow out of my grasp and pushing his hands under my shirt, riding it up so I could shimmy out of it. I chuckle quietly, "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

Eric rolls his eyes as he drops my shirt, turning me over to reach my back. "If you think I'm thinking something along the lines of 'Alex is too tired and vulnerable to do anything but sleep' then yes."

My eyes flutter shut as Eric starts running his nails over my back. "And get back scratches," I murmur before being struck by a sudden urge. Eh. I was tired. Let's go for it. I'm pretty sure I surprised Eric by suddenly swinging up onto all fours and start pushing him to lay down.

His eye brow goes up as I work to get rid of his shirt. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?" he teases lightly, letting me get his shirt off of him.

I purr quietly at the massive expanse of bronze muscled chest in front of me before crawling over him, putting myself chest to chest with him. "If you think I'm thinking that 'This is too good of an opportunity to get Eric shirtless' than yes," I tease back as I settle one of my legs between Eric's and bring up my hands to his shoulders. "Because this is too good to resist. You're too hot for your own good. Sometimes all I can think about it is how to get you with your clothes off or get you to let me touch you."

I rise and fall quickly with his laughs. "Then that's something we have in common," he says, resting his head back on his pillows, watching me through half lidded eyes as I start kneading and feeling out his chest as his hands come up and resume the back scratch.

"We should have regular times where we can just do this," I suggest, going limp against my living bed but never stopping my blind exploration of the massive shoulders and chest I'd been dreaming of. "I would love to just have time to touch and explore."

"As would I." One hand leaves my back and reaches for the tray. He breaks off the edge of a cookie and offers the piece to me.

I take it with a hum. "Thank you," I murmur. "Chocolate and Eric. I'm getting ideas." Eric just laughs and reaches for another piece.

It goes on like this for a short while. Cookies being fed to me, back scratches, and the occasional kiss either of us wants. I'm so out of it I take a large piece in my lips and hold it to him. He obliges my silly demand and splits it with me and I admit that I'm a hopeless romantic when it comes to these things. Candle lights, sweet music, and lots of desserts are my fantasy.

But, despite the incredible moment and how good I was feeling, I had gone over 24 hours without sleep and having all of my stresses and thoughts melted away under Eric's patient and caring hand just makes it harder to keep my eyes open no matter how I fight it. Eventually, I do pass out, but I don't think I could've done it in a happier and relaxing way.

Chasing the Flame

So I knew before I finished the story and the big bang at the end that I needed to get Bee out in the field one more time, so this is that time. I make an effort with almost all my stories to make it as real as possible, which is hilarious given the nature of this story, but you get my point. I try and keep the time line real and the powers restricted and limited and the thought processes human so they don't immediately jump to the solution and save the day. No, that'd get boring.

And it's precisely that reason that drove me to write this chapter. Bee is a master in three martial arts, but he hasn't ever really put the knowledge to use. Yes, he's good at sparing and defending himself from idiots, but actual fighting? Nope. And he's never had to fight to try and save someone. And since Alex is a very emotional kid this stresses him like you cannot believe. This is his first time fighting the 'peons' everyone else is always cursing, Jazz is hurt, no back up is coming any time soon, and Bee is way out of his league. It all continues to compound on into the next day until Bee snaps and Eric is there like the amazing boyfriend he is. Daw!

So, that's the gist of the chapter. Let me know what you guys think and remember to check out sleepyoldvamp on DeviantArt!


	15. Chapter 15

So I'm not going to count this as a chapter because there's not relevant plot. Only crack, yaoi and smut. You read that right. THIS IS A MATURE CHAPTER. Don't worry though, I've censored the bad part and if you do want to read it (You must be over the age of 18 to read thank you very much) I'll leave a link on my profile page. It goes to Archive of Our Own, where I will be putting all dirty scenes. So, enjoy the humor and crack and surprisingly deep Ironhide and enjoy the smut if you want.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: YAOI, SMUT, MENTIONS OF SMUT, AND TALKING ABOUT SEX

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DeviantArt

Plot and OCs © me

Chasing the Flame

"Dinner!" I call through the house, depositing the hot pan of lasagna in its place on the table. "Hurry up before I eat all of it!" Down the hall I heard the distinctive high-pitched shriek of a wild-Jazz call. Oh, and look, here he comes, ready to rain vengeance down on whoever dared threaten his food. The only way to ward off a wild-Jazz attack is to time your defense _just right_ as in when he's five feet away hold up his plate piled high with food for him to see. The blur that was a wild-Jazz came to a stop right in front of me. He bared his teeth at me, growling, before snatching the plate and darting off to his chair at the table. "You're welcome," I drawl and get a snarl in response.

"Please excuse Jazz," Prowl says serenely as he walks in at a sedate pace. "He has not had anything to eat today and has forgotten his manners."

"You ever seen a teenager get his food taken away?" I ask with a quirked eyebrow as I hand Prowl his plate and make my own. "I know the feeling." Jazz is just sitting there stuffing his face, cheeks like a chipmunk. Though my eyes aren't on the slightly disgusting and comical scene, they're on the slight puffiness and darkening of Prowl's lips. Like they were bruised from kissing. He was in Jazz's room with the man…Cue devious, internal smirk.

Gabriel and Eric come in from the outside, having been tinkering with one of the cars. "Do I smell food?" Ironhide asks.

Seb walks over from the kitchen. "Yes. Now go wash your hands."

"Yes, dear." Gabe rolls his eyes before ducking to avoid a flying spoon.

My eyes follow Eric as he changes directions to come over to me. I smile at him, "Having fun, hot stuff?" I tease, taking in the liberal grease marks and dirt smudges on his face, hands, and forearms.

"Much," he replies, dropping a quick kiss before following Gabriel into the kitchen.

When everyone is done getting food and sitting down, Seb swallows his mouthful and flicks his eyes over to me. "So, Bee, you're done with school now, right?"

A smile instantly spreads across my face at the reminder, honest and heartfelt. "Today was my last day," I tell him, shifting side to side to get rid of some of my built up excitement and happiness.

The blond lifts an eyebrow in amusement. "That excited for summer?"

"Why wouldn't I be? I get tons more free time to do what I want and hang out with you guys. I finally don't have to go back to that place every day. And I don't have to deal with those immature assholes." Eric reaches over and squeezes my knee. I cast him a small smile before continuing my answer. "I'm just glad that I'm done with all that for a while."

Gabe gets a sharp look in his eye, stopping the garlic bread on its way to his mouth. "You're still not getting bullied, are you?" he asks in a low voice that's not quite a growl but getting ready to do so.

"Now?" I clarify, cutting my slice of lasagna into bite sizes to let it cool off. "No, I'm not." It's the truth. I'm no longer getting bullied now that I'm out of school for summer. But Ironhide seems to catch my half-truth and gets a dark look in his hazel eyes.

Before he can say anything else Sebastian reaches over and lays a hand on his arm. "Alex is fine, Gabriel. No one is going to bother him now."

"Doesn't mean they won't be right back at it when school starts back up again," he argues.

I shake my head and wave my hand. "They'll have moved on by then. Yeah, I'll get a few comments, but that's probably it." When I get a suspicious look, I smile at the large man. "Honest, Gabe." He just huffs and shoves his garlic bread in his mouth.

"When will you get your grades back on your finals?" Prowl asks curiously.

"Final grades have to be posted and uploaded by Friday."

"Ah. I'm sure you did well on your tests. The events of Sunday night did not have much of an influence, did they?"

"I don't think so. I feel good about all of them. It's a good thing it happened on Sunday because Monday was just a day where we sat around and did nothing."

Jazz groaned and swallowed his mouthful, taking a swig of his drink. "Speaking of Sunday, my wife is riding me hard about that," he informs the whole table. "Since I didn't come home that night she called the precinct and found out I didn't have a patrol like I said I did. Now she's demanding to know all the other times I've lied about and what I'm doing."

"You know better than to give a lie that can be so easily exposed," Seb scolds lightly. "_You_ are better than that."

"I know, I know. But what am I supposed to tell her? I can't constantly be telling her I'm hanging out with you guys because then she'll definitely get suspicious."

"The best lie is always based on the truth," I offer and Jazz nods sagely.

"I know, kid. But I've been lying to her for years. I've gotta change up my lies every now and then."

"Doesn't seem like a relationship if it's growing around lies," I respond easily before looking up in alarm as I heard my words and the caustic way they could be taken. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—"

Jazz waves his hand, smiling as he takes off his sunglasses and sets them on the table. "Naw. Don't apologize. You're simply speaking the truth. Sometimes I wonder if we have a relationship anymore." It's hard to see the usually jovial man look depressed and sigh. It just doesn't look right.

Sebastian sends a pointed look at Prowl, who doesn't even see it. "You can always fall back on us, Jazz," the stoic man comforts. "We are all in this."

Jazz sighs again before straightening up with an amused smirk. "Yeah, I guess we are. I swear we're like some cheesy superhero team, fighting to protect Earth."

"Cybertron," Eric corrects. "With Earth as collateral."

"And what team could we possibly be similar to?" Ratchet demands.

"The Justice League." Jazz smirks around his mouthful of lasagna. "Eric is Superman, Bee is Captain Marvel, Prowler is Batman, Sebby is Martian Manhunter, 'Hide is Hawkman, and I'm the Flash."

I laugh and try not to choke on my food as Eric shakes his head. "I don't know whether to be impressed or horrified at the thought you put into that."

Sebastian glared with Gabriel at the laughing Jamaican-French-Creole. "Do I look green…" He pauses and has to think over his indignant question. "Do I look like an alien…Shit. Forget it. I don't appreciate being compared to a Martian."

"And how do I compare to a duck man?" Ironhide bites savagely into his lasagna.

"Your wings," I manage to gasp out. "And he's former military."

Eric just makes a soft sound and I look over to see him looking at his lap. "I wear my underwear outside my pants?" he asks, perfecting his lost sounding tone. I'm struggling to stop my laughter as I pat his head.

"And Prowl?" Sebastian asks.

Jazz just falls out of his chair as Prowl looks up with a tiny quirk of his lips. "I'm Batman," he says in a perfect Christopher Nolan impersonation with a straight face.

I join Jazz on the floor, dying.

It's safe to say that after that discussion it was nominated to raid the massive movie collection for any and all superhero movies. Fantastic Four is the first one to go in and I curl up with Optimus on the love seat, bowl of popcorn between us. Around the point when the team of superheroes pulls the fire truck back onto the bridge I lose control and start laughing again.

"I think he's broken," Gabriel rumbled as I tried to get myself under control again.

I shake my head and wipe away my tears. "N-no. It's just," Epic gasp. "I found out which of us is the Fantastic Four."

"Oh, this will be good," Jazz drawls from where he's hanging upside off the long couch.

"Eric is Johnny," I start and get understanding nods for why the two flaming beings were the same. "'Hide is the Thing."

Gabriel grins savagely at Eric. "That means I get to clobber you." Eric just snaps his fingers and a flame appears in his palm.

I snort in laughter as I struggle to get the next words out as Jazz and Ratchet and Prowl look at me in challenge. There were only two heroes left and one of them was a woman. "Jazz…Jazz is the Invisible Woman."

"What?" Jazz exclaims loudly as I crack up laughing all over again. "Dude, I gave you Captain Marvel! He's the only guy with a chance at beating Superman. Why you gotta turn and betray me like that, huh?"

"Of all of us," I start to explain, holding my aching sides. "You are the most likely to run around naked. With or without invisibility."

I watch as Jazz's mouth opens and closes for a moment before he nods and spreads his hands. "I can't argue with that." Another round of laughter goes up.

"And Ratchet is Mr. Fantastic because they're both doctors."

Ratchet lifts an eyebrow. "Different 'doctors', Bee."

"Does it look like I care?" I shoot back, curling up against Prime once more before lifting a popcorn kernel and offering it to him. He takes it easily.

**CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!**

**CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!**

I wake up slowly, feeling deliciously warm and relaxed. Memories of the previous night come back slowly and I find myself happy with the events as well as a tad bit shy. That…had been…Urg. Words, you fail me. Exhilarating, blissful, new, worth repeating, and a major loss in control. By the end there I had absolutely no thought in my mind other than getting that last bit of touch to climax; to get that little bit closer to Eric. If he had wanted to go that last step last night I don't think I would've protested at all. That was…worrying to say the least.

But that slight worry was mostly overshadowed by the joy and sense of pride that I'd been able to perform well enough for Eric and to have further progress in their relationship. I stretch my legs, tangled with Eric's hairy ones, and nuzzle and kiss the bare chest in front of me. My boyfriend—lover?—stirred only slightly in response before going still and quiet once more. I smile and debate whether I should exploit this opportunity to explore Eric with a saner mind, but my rumbling stomach won that argument quickly. Wiggling and squirming out of Eric's arms, I wrinkle my nose at how itchy and sticky I feel before heading over to Prime's bathroom. A quick shower later and figuring out that I didn't want to wear any tight clothes just yet, I snag a large white shirt and blue shirts from Eric's dresser and put them on. They're so big on me that the collar of the shirt is nearly falling off one shoulder at all times and I have to tighten the drawstring on the shorts that hang down past my knees.

I feel like a kid playing dress up until I get the strong whiff of Eric on the clothes. My mind flashes back to last night and I smirk. Definitely not a kid.

Quietly, I leave the room and pad down the hall. The house is silent. I couldn't even hear Gabriel snoring. Moving into the kitchen, I snag a bagel and some orange juice, downing both quickly to sate my hunger for the moment. It's when I'm putting my cup in the sink that I see that there's someone in the living room.

"What are you doing up so early?" I ask Ironhide quietly from where he's sitting on the couch reading.

"It's 8 o'clock," he answers softly, neither of us wanting to disturb the relative and rare quiet. Then he turns and snorts in amusement. "Could you be more obvious?"

I blink and look down at myself before realizing that I'd gone with every cliché woman's dress code; put on the clothes of the man they just slept with. Whoops. Eh. I don't think I can feel shame at the moment, just mild embarrassment. I shrug. "This is a shameless house," I reply, moving around the couch to drop by the larger man's side and cuddle up to him. I don't know why I felt the sudden urge to do this, but it settled something inside of me when Gabe only glanced away from his book once before shifting and wrapping an arm behind my back. "Not to mention I didn't feel like wearing pants."

He grunts in agreement, turning a page. "I'd be walking around naked if I thought that Seb wouldn't kill me in an instant. He's possessive like that." I snicker quietly before putting my head on his shoulder and letting my mind absorb the quiet as Ironhide's fingers absently rubbed back and forth from their place on my back. Gabe turns a few more pages before speaking up. "So do you feel alright?" he asks. When I look up at him in confusion he elaborates. "Sore or anything? First time is always the hardest on you."

A light blush crosses my face and I turn my gaze away, focusing on the book in his massive, scared hands. "We didn't go all the way," I admit. "We both agreed that it felt a bit early for that."

Gabe hummed understandingly. "Did you climax?" I nod, moving my mind's embarrassment level to not include sex so this conversation wouldn't get awkward. "Good. Was Eric good to you?" I grin and stretch out and he chuckles. "I'm happy for you, Alex." I hum happily when his head tilts slightly to rest his cheek against the top of my head, putting his book down. "Anything you want to talk about?" he offers easily. "Any questions? Thoughts? But keep your gushing over how great Eric is in bed. I'm still exhausted from my go with Ratch'."

I smile at his jab at himself before thinking seriously. Was there anything I did want outside advice on? Duh. Yes. "I'm not sure if I like how out of control I was," I murmur. "After a certain point I couldn't even think let alone resist if something I wasn't ready for mentally started happening."

Gabe's other arm comes up and links up with the hand on my back as he pauses to think. "It's a trust thing," he starts. "You hear all that blab and blah over how relationships are built on trust and as annoying as it sounds I believe it has another meaning besides making sure there's no friction between the parties. When you're with someone and serious about them and they're serious about you, things will progress and you'll find out more things about each other. Your partner begins to see the parts of you that you usually keep hidden; even from yourself sometimes. And when you have sex that's pretty much the farthest point you can go in trusting each other. Your inhibitions are lowered, you can't think straight, your filters are gone. And in that moment you see what kind of person is beneath all the masks and words. You see them.

"Now, from what I can tell, growing up you didn't have a lot of control in your life. You didn't have any final say or even influence in a lot of the things that happened to you. Things that scarred you for life. I think it would be a natural for you to make up for that lack of control early in your life with a steely control over yourself." He pauses and looks down at my attentive eyes and sees me struggling to make the connection. Maybe it was a sore point in me that I couldn't stop my dad from beating me and I couldn't help my mother when she came was 'diagnosed' with lung cancer. I don't know. I never really thought of it that way before. "When it comes to situations you don't know you make sure to keep your mind clear, don't you?" Ironhide asks. I nod. "When it comes to talking with strangers you think over every word before you speak." I nod again even though it's not a question. "And when it comes to events you don't like you plan out your next steps as best as you can." Another nod.

"You may not have it as bad as I've seen it in other people, but I think you have a bit of a problem with control." Those hazel eyes suddenly get a wicked gleam. "By the way, that little fact might make some bondage and typing up Eric pretty exciting for you." I grin but remain silent, adding a star by bondage on my 'Kinks to Explore' mental list. "Anyway, this might be what has you uneasy after last night. After having control out of your reach as a kid, you aren't going to be inclined to give it up easily. I bet Eric had to work a little bit in order to get you to finally give in, eh?" I blush as I thought of how exactly Eric had worked me over and Ironhide grins.

"So what can I do about it?" I ask, resting my head once more. "I want to enjoy it, but it doesn't quite sit right with me."

"I can't give you any concrete advice, Bee. That's something you're going to have to work over with Prime when he wakes up." I sigh at the answer, but I already planned on bringing this up with my boyfriend-lover. "But…" I pat his arm to let him know I was listening and I could hear the faint mischievous tone in his voice. "You're going to have to learn to trust Eric with your control, but maybe you can start that by forcing him to obey you. Maybe 'Look but Don't Touch', 'No Noise or No Touch', or, my favorite, just tie him up and tease him until he's out of his mind." I snicker as ideas and pictures spin through my head. Yummy, delicious, exciting, and _appealing_ ideas and pictures.

"Thanks, Gabe." I hug him.

"No problem, kid. I'm always here if you have questions or want to talk."

I pause and I think over the amount of affection and love behind that offer. "You're a teddy bear," I tease.

Ironhide groans and picks up his book again as I slip away from him. "Why is everyone calling me that?"

I laugh quietly as I walk back towards Eric's room. "Love ya, Teddy."

Gabe grunts behind me. "Love ya too, brat."

Now. I needed to have a certain talk with Prime when he finally got around to waking up. Maybe even get a jump start on one of Ironhide's helpful suggestions.

Chasing the Flame

So that was my first real attempt at writing a sex scene. I really couldn't imagine Bee and Op actually having sex this early in their relationship, especially with virgin Bee, but I can imagine very, very heavy petting if Alex started it.

And I believe Ironhide should be a relationship councilor. *nods*. Yup. Totally fits. Don't they say that love is a battlefield? And he's also a closet teddy bear. He's an awesome big brother!

The link for the dirty scene for you dirty minds (who am I to judge when I wrote the damn thing?) is on my profile page. Please tell me what you think! This is my first try writing something like that and any advice is welcome!

I'LL BE RIGHT BACK TO POST A REAL CHAPTER!

Remember to leave a review and check out Sleepy on DA.


	16. Chapter 16

Okay, so here's the real chapter. This is a short little arc in the story that is in the final steps of the plot of the story. We're nearing the end people! I can think of only one more time-waster chapter after this, but I think that's it. So, without further ado, the next chapter!

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DA

Plot and OCs © me

Okay. Soooooooo… I'll be honest. There's only one reason why I'm here, standing outside an old and condemned apartment building with the rest of my family on Saturday night.

I. Am. A. Persistent. Little. Shit.

Argument: You aren't fully trained yet. If we can pick up the radiation then so can the 'Cons.

Counter Argument: I'll be there with all of you. If anything happens I promise to find a place to hide until everything blows over. Besides, I've been breaking and entering places for years. This is right up my alley.

Counter-Counter Argument: We have Jazz. He trumps you. We are not putting you in the way of harm.

Counter-Counter-Counter Argument: But Jazz isn't as small as me! And more eyes mean more things are noticed and made easier. It's just a brief search into a possible Allspark location. Nothing inherently dangerous like patrol or fighting. I could use the experience and what better way to get it when everyone will be there?

This interaction was, of course, repeated, turned over, and mauled over the course of an entire 24 hours where I refused to drop the subject or let anyone sleep until I was given permission into going. Even Prowl was ready to snap at me when they finally caved.

Like I said. Persistent.

So here I was, trailing behind Jazz and Ironhide as they take the steep stone steps into one of those basement apartments. It took a bit of work from Jazz's lock picks—I'd brought mine with me as well—before the rusted and disgusting metal door swings open and we file in. It's only when the door is shut and locked that I speak up, eyeing the dusty, cobweb-infested, and rotten apartment, shining my small flashlight around. "The Allspark is supposed to be here?"

"Allspark radiation," Ratchet corrects as he walks forward, sweeping his own light across the floor. "It means the cube was here before. And the computers say that the radiation is coming from below us, so look for any means to go down deeper." I shrug. Alright. Look for trapdoors or a convenient staircase going down. Got it.

"I still find it odd that we suddenly picked up such a strong radiation signal all of a sudden," Prowl states as he moves into a tiny kitchen.

"We have to investigate any and all signs of the Allspark," Eric calmly points out as he points his light up and at the sagging support beams covered in fuzzy mold. I pull my shirt up over my face in an effort to not breathe in the fuzz. "Even if it means going through less than savory places."

"Is that what they call shitholes nowadays?" I call as I peak into the bathroom and quickly leave at the sickly look it has. "Maybe the radiation has nothing to do with this apartment," I suggest. "There are old sewers and pipelines that run all across this area. I think there's a sewer junction nearby."

"I'm not going into the sewers," Prowl snaps from where he's leaning down and peering under ancient and rotting furniture.

"And how do you know about the sewer junction?" Jazz asks curiously from…somewhere.

"I used to play in them. My parents didn't care much and I always loved finding new places to explore. The sewers were the perfect place." I use my foot and kick aside a thin carpet that nearly looked like the floorboards with its liberal coating of dust and dirty. No trapdoor there.

I found myself blinking and squinting when Sebastian suddenly shined his light in my face. My hand came up in an effort to save my eye sight. "You played in the sewers," he repeated in a monotone.

"Yes. Now will you please get that light out of my eyes?"

He didn't lower his flashlight. "Sewers are filled with dangerous, lethal gases when inhaled and explosive when lit. They are also a cesspool for bacteria and diseases. And you _played_ in them?"

"For years until I had them all nearly memorized. But, now that you mention it, that probably explains all my headaches as a kid and why I got sick all the time." Ratchet growls and chucks his flashlight at me. I laugh and dance away, spots in my eyes as I struggle to get my night vision back. "Relax, Doc. Just means it takes a hell of a virus to knock me down now."

I'm sure Sebastian is about to rip me a new one when Gabe, who had been suspiciously silent this entire time, calls out, "I think I might have found something!" I waste no time in skirting around the fuming doctor and follow the sound of Mr. Teddy Mountain's voice into what I assumed was what used to be a bedroom. Coming up behind him, I stared at where he has his flashlight pointed at this large and rotten bookcase. The others file in and I see it.

"A draft?" I ask to no one in particular, lifting a hand near the waving and fluttering cobwebs covering the bookcase. Sure enough, I can feel a chill coming from the room and going straight into the bookcase. Nothing weird there.

"And drag marks," Eric adds and we look down to see him scuffing his tennis shoe across the floor, moving the dust to reveal heavy black streaks on the hardwood floor. All of them were pointing at the bookcase as well. "It's as if they were moving something heavy through here and repeatedly."

Gabe hands his flashlight off to the nearest person, Jazz, before going to one end of the bookcase. "Come on, Eric. Help me move this." Eric hands his off as well and they both heave, lifting the creaking and falling apart shelf up before shuffling, moving it away from its former spot.

I move forward and raise an incredulous eyebrow. "Okay. Cliché. Hello creepy staircase to take me to my doom."

Jazz snorts as he looks down at the flights of stairs going down into darkness. "This is something from a spy movie. Who actually puts a secret entrance behind a bookshelf?"

We yelped, the sound echoing down the stairwell, when Ratchet shoved us from behind. "Stop gawking and get walking."

Jazz and I looked at each other and I smiled, throwing up my hands, "Hey. I'm the one who has to stay away from any and all trouble, remember? That means not going down dark and creepy stairs first." The Jamaican-French-Creole threw me an irritated look before moving to the stairs, me a few steps behind him, Eric behind me, then Ratchet, Gabriel, and Prowl.

We went down about seven flights of stairs before Jazz came to the lone metal door. He tried it and it squealed as it swung inward.

There was a somewhat large room in front of us. It was maybe 30 feet by 20 feet with three rows of computers on tables. To the right the entire wall was covered in bookcases and to the left was another door.

"Ratchet, Jazz, see if you can get something from the computers," Eric ordered, stepping through and taking everything in. "Prowl, Bee, take the bookcases. Ironhide, with me." I had to admire the way he was so quick and efficient yet fair in handing out assignments. A leader who was conscious of strengths and weaknesses in his men as well as any parameters, my staying away from danger, was a good leader in my opinion.

" .Saur computers, man," Jazz muttered, tapping the bulging backs of the computer screens. "Do these things even work?"

From behind me I heard Ratchet start typing on a keyboard. "We're about to find out. If all else fails we can just pull the hard drives and get the files that way."

"If we can find something compatible with these fossils to transfer the files with."

I tuned out the conversation going on behind me as I slowly strolled down the bookcase wall, looking at everything. Prowl stopped in front of a bookcase half full with books scattered on the floor in front of it. "Whoever was here left in a hurry," he observed as he crouched by the books on the floor, nudging them away.

"How do you figure that?" I ask.

"They were in the process of taking all relevant information with them. They managed to take whatever was in these cases to my right, but had to leave when they were in the process of taking these." I flicked my light over at the three bookcases barren of anything in them. "And they were in such a hurry that whoever was doing this dropped this." The blond-slash-burnet pulled something small from the books and held it up for me to see. It was an old cracked watch with a broken clasp. "They were fleeing the scene as quickly as they could, but managed to take the books in these shelves. What made those books more important than these?"

"What were they running from?" I added my question to his before motioning to the books. "What are they about?"

"They're science books. Reanimation, animation, metal identification and uses, and… Alien life."

"That's not a coincidence," I mutter, shining my flashlight over the rest of the books, glancing at the titles on their spines. "Looks like the rest of them are about computers and mechanical repair. Instruction manuals and such." I walked further down the wall to ensure my observation was true when my foot slipped a tiny bit on something. Looking down I noticed that there were dust covered papers covering the floor in my area. Curious, I crouched down and lifted a paper, shaking the dust from it.

I frowned at it. There was a bunch of science mumbo jumbo on it with pictures of what I think were signal frequencies. All of the signals were wild and red, off the charts. My eyes came to an acronym. NBEO. A little bit of searching the page provided the meaning. Non-Biological Extraterrestrial Object. Heart racing a little bit, I flicked my eyes down to the quickly scrawled notes in chicken scratch. It was slow going, but I managed to get the meaning from it. Whoever wrote this said that the NBEO was exhibiting a growing number of spikes in energy and frequency as the experiments went on. They couldn't control it and they were getting worried because the 'results' were starting to come out deformed and unrecognizable.

Not quite sure what to make of it, I scan the paper once more. At the top of the page was this sideways Star Trek symbol with the stylized words 'Stars Incorporated' on top of it. Nothing more, but maybe Seb could make more sense of it. I pick up the rest of the papers and go over to where the doctor and Jazz were dissecting a computer tower. "Hey, Seb. Take a look at this." He looks up with a frown, but takes the sheets of paper anyway, scanning over it. I'm not sure if I liked how he got more worried and faster as he flipped through the papers as he went. I'm about to ask what's wrong when Gabriel curses.

He and Eric as standing in front of the door, trying to pry it open. Apparently it wasn't working. "What kind of paranoid idiot goes and practically welds a door shut?" Ironhide growled, glaring death at the inanimate portal.

I move over to them, coming to Eric's side and wrapping an arm around his waist as he puts an arm over my shoulders. My eyes are scanning over the door before something catches my eye along the small gap between the top of the door and the frame. I flick my flashlight up and squint. "Is that…What's a bolt locking system doing on a door?"

"'Bolt locking'?" Eric repeats, asking for clarification.

Jazz comes up behind me and pats my back. "Good eyes, Bee. A bolt locking system is usually used on safes and vaults. If someone were to do the sequence wrong in unlocking it thick bolts would slide from the door and into the safe walls, keeping it from being opened. Look. You can see the shadows of the bolts."

"So how do we open it?" Ironhide demanded.

"Given that there's no control panel over here it can probably only be opened from the other side."

"Great. So we have to blast it down?"

Ratchet stepped forward. "No. We're in an enclosed space with a less-than-stable apartment building over us. It could collapse down from the shockwave and our only exit would be blocked."

"Well, then what do you suggest?"

"I don't know! Ask the ex-Special Forces or ex-B&E specialist." Jazz and I narrow our eyes at Seb for bringing us into the argument, but I move my eyes back up to where I was scanning above the door.

My eyes finally find what I'm looking for. "When in doubt," I mutter, catching everyone's attention. "Go for the vents." Attention shifts from me to where I'm shining my light on a small metal cover near the ceiling.

"None of us could ever fit through there," Prowl points out.

"I can," I correct him, stepping away from Eric and towards the wall under the vent. "Gabe, can you give me a boost?"

"Like hell I'm helping you get separated from us," the larger man huffed, crossing his arms finally.

"Are you serious? This is going to be our only way past this door," I try and reason. "Are you really going to call it quits with what's possibly behind that door?" My eyes go to Ratchet, asking him to back me up. He shifts a bit uncomfortably, getting a stressed and worried look on his face.

Everyone sees the small interaction. "Ratchet?" Eric questions softly.

"Bee found a report," the doctor admits slowly. "It mentions experiments on a 'Non-Biological Extraterrestrial Object' with energy frequencies almost an exact match for the radiation I picked up." We all go still at this new information. "It might be the reason why the radiation signal was so strong. Maybe when all these people left they left behind the Allspark."

The effect that has on us isn't anything that can really be described or quantified. I myself felt a…tug to keep going, to see if the Allspark really was here. It was like the priority of the Allspark just jumped up a few places even though I didn't really value it before this point. It was just an object my family was searching for, but now I felt that I _needed_ to keep going.

I turn when Gabriel sighs, rubbing his face. "Fine, kid." He then comes over and puts his back to the wall under the vent and holds his hand in a sling. "Don't get into any trouble."

I couldn't find it in myself to feel smug as I fitted my foot in his hands and let him lift me until I could stand on his wide shoulders, giving me plenty of height to reach the small vent. Putting the flashlight in my mouth, I dug my fingertips into the seams of the vent and pulled. It took a few tugs before it came loose and I aimed my light down the shaft. "I can see the other side," I reported. "It's maybe fifteen feet away."

"Meaning there are actually two doors," Prowl observed. "The chamber between the doors is probably a decontamination method. It will be a few seconds delay before we actually get through once you open the door."

"Is your headset on?" Eric asks, and, when I look, I can see the faint concern there.

I grin reassuringly and flick the Bluetooth in my ear on. "Course it is, hot stuff." He nodded, telling me he could hear me. Putting the flashlight back in my mouth, I braced my hands against the vent edge. "A'righ', 'Hi'. Poos 'e ah." Hands grabbed my foot on his shoulder and heaved, shaking slightly so it didn't lose its grip or balance. I grunted around the plastic in my mouth at the tight squeeze as I was pushed up until my butt and wiggled to drag the rest of myself through. "I'm'a need a show'r af'er dis," I mutter as I use my arms to pull me along, cobwebs and dust getting all over my hair and clothes. Consciously, I took smaller breaths so my chest didn't expand and wedge me in place.

"You doing okay, kid?" Jazz asks over the headset.

I grunt as I pull myself forward a bit more, about halfway there now. "Yeah. Jus' a 'igh' fi'."

Jazz chuckled. "I'm sure Eric will think the same thing when you guys actually get to that point. You and that ass." Cue smack and yelp.

I struggled to reign in my laugh. "Don' ma'e me laugh," I protested before grabbing the edge of my exit vent and pulling myself the last leg of distance. I take my flashlight out of my mouth and scan around the room. It was empty except for the counter to my left where I hoped the door control panel was. "Alright. Now this is going to be awkward." There really was no safe way to get out of this tight vent other than falling, but I still tried to control my fall, wiggling out until gravity took hold and dragged me down. I yelped as I flipped and twisted and landed on my butt.

"Are you hurt?" Sebastian demanded.

"No." I get up and rub my tailbone. "Just landed on my ass." Soft laughter and I smiled as I relieved a bit of the tension. "Now to get the door open." I move over behind the little counter and my flashlight immediately lands on the metal panel filled with buttons. "Gotcha." My hand depresses the green button that says 'Open'. "Did the door unlock?"

I heard a rattle over the speaker. "No," Gabe answered gruffly.

"Shit. I need electricity." My flashlight snipes through the darkness of the room, hoping for a circuit breaker to just be sitting on the wall. There was none. "Look, I've got to find the maintenance room and restore power to this place."

"Are you sure there's no other way?" Eric asks worriedly.

"It's not like I can get back on my own. The vent is too high," I point out as I move to go down the old hallway. I find a panel on the wall with words and arrows. "The only way to go now is forward." Cue uncomfortable and shifting silence even as I trace the directions on the wall and find 'Maintenance Room' with a little arrow pointing down the hall. I move to follow it, flashlight guiding my way. "Relax guys. This place has been abandoned for years. Only thing that's probably going to bother me are the spiders." I rap my knuckles against a water fountain I'm passing.

"Famous last words," Jazz mutters.

"Just be safe," Eric tells me.

"Can do." I don't say anything further, making a right turn as another panel directed me to go.

My eyes flick around the hall as I go. Under all the dust and cobwebs I'm sure the walls and floor were a clinical white. I was passing unmarked doors as I went and I found it a bit odd that I wasn't struck by the urge to go exploring. It was something that stuck with me since as far back as I could remember; this desire to find new places and see what treasures and secrets they had to offer. And without a doubt this abandoned research facility was full of secrets.

But, if anything, I shied away from the doors. I was beginning to get a bad feeling about this place. I don't know what it was, but something was triggering my instincts, telling me to turn and run. Frowning, I tried to puzzle out my feelings as I made another turn, marking it on my mental map so I could get back to the door.

Nervousness made my stomach flutter, but that could be from being on my own in this dark abandoned place. The inky, pitch blackness was the same in the computer room, but then I had five other flashlights plus mine to fight back the darkness as well as the sounds of them moving and breathing to let me know that I wasn't alone. Here…it was just silence. Empty yawning silence that I tried not to disturb by walking with silent footsteps and controlling my breathing, but I heard even that in this consuming void of sound and light.

Maybe I was feeling even a sliver of fear. I couldn't watch a scary movie to save my life and those that I had dared to actually finish were flickering at the edge of my thoughts, but I refused to actually consider them. My eyes were already seeing shapes move in the darkness beyond the safety of my light. My ears were already picking up faint sounds that weren't my own. Goose bumps were already running up and down my arm from the creepiness of this entire situation as my heart and spark picked up their paces slightly.

My shoe nudged something, making it roll across the ground. Jumping a little, I looked down to see a bullet casing. And another. And another. This part of the hall seemed to be covered in shell casings. And when I looked up I noticed that the shadows on the walls weren't shadows, but blast marks. Like from a grenade or bomb.

I frowned and looked behind me. Why did a research facility have weapons in it? And why were they used?

It really was like I was in a horror movie.

Shut up, you idiot. You don't need to be adding to the stress of this.

But you feel it too! Seriously, it's like something is following us.

Oh, for the love of all things holy, _shut up_! You're making it worse.

And we're alone! Oh my god that's the worst mistake to make in any horror movie. We're going to die.

The only reason you're going to die is because _I'm going to kill you!_

My lips quirk a bit at my inner argument. Maybe things weren't all that bad if I was having those again. My flashlight brought an open doorway into view and I actually saw a label next to the door, reading 'Maintenance Room'. Finally. "Alright, I found the Mainten—" My report to the guys stops the second I walk into the room and take in the sight, breath catching in my throat.

"Alex?" Eric calls. "Alex, what's wrong?"

I can't get any words out as I stare at the mess in front of me with eyes filling with tears of fear.

"Alex, answer us," Prowl orders.

"It's…" I try to explain but stop as I struggle not to panic. "Oh, God, guys. I don't think I'm the only thing alive in this place."

"If this is some kind of joke," Ironhide growls.

I'm shaking my head even though he can't see it before spinning and flicking my flashlight up and down the hall to make sure it's clear before entering the room. It's drenched in old blood stains, sticking to my shoes and making a horrid sound each time I lift my foot. I walk over to the wall with the huge circuit breakers. Or what used to be circuit breakers.

Massive and jagged claw marks cut through them, leaving nothing untouched.

I finally swallow and get over my initial fear and panic. Casting one last look behind me, I focus on the damaged—_ohgodwhatcould'vedonethisisitstillhere?!_—wires. "The circuit breakers are…severely damaged," I whisper softly. "But I might be able to rewire them. Everything is still here."

"Alex…" Eric called softly. "What do you see?"

I shake my head and bite my lip. "No. I'm not going to think about it. I'm just going to fix this and get you guys through." I put my flashlight back in my mouth and move my hands over the nest of wires. I just needed to reconnect the wires and that should do it. At least I knew there was still power in the lines with how my fingers got singed and cut as I worked as quickly as I could, thankful for Sebastian's insistence that l learn how cars are wired inside and out, giving me a basis on what to work on as I simply matched the same colored wires in the same general area together, twisting them around each other.

I worked in silence for about 15 minutes, relaxing a little bit when nothing happened to me. The guys asked for updates on where I was every few minutes and I simply mumbled that I was working as fast as I could.

Then a sound picked at the very edge of my hearing.

My head whipped around, aiming my flashlight at the door as I froze and listened hard. It came again not a second later. It was a small series of three clicks like metal taping on the tile floor of this compound. My eyes widened when it came at slow, regular intervals. Footsteps. "S-shit," I cursed quietly, yanking my light out of my mouth and frantically turning it off, plunging me into unnerving pitch black.

"What's going on?" Jazz called, hearing me swear faintly. "Stick yourself with a wire?"

My heart nearly stopped when I lifted a foot to go hide and the sound of the sticky blood I was standing on was booming in the silence. I couldn't move without giving my position away. Putting my foot down and struggling to control my sudden hyperventilation, I whispered as quietly as I could, "Something's coming."

"What? What do you mean 'something'?"

"What's wrong?"

"Alex, talk to us!"

"Report."

"Alex, get out of there. You hear me?"

"Calm down, Alex. Find a place to hide, alright?"

I trembled, ears straining for the clicking sound. "Shut up!" I hiss and all of them go quiet. "It's coming closer." I stand there in the blinding darkness, holding my flashlight with tight fists. It was completely and utterly nerve racking to hear those clicking, metal footsteps coming closer. And it gave me time to imagine what was possibly hunting for me. I moved a hand to clamp over my nose and mouth as my breathing picked up once more in fear. Those three clicks…it sounded like whatever was walking was walking on three small points. Like claws. Like the claw marks on the circuit breakers. Primus, help me.

I squeezed my eyes shut as tears filled them once more. It kept coming. Closer and closer with the slow fluid pace that reminded me of a predator stalking its prey. I didn't dare breathe.

I nearly had a heart attack right then and there when the clicking stopped just outside the door. Could it hear me? See me? It's been living in the dark for who knows how long? It probably sees me! Please no. Don't come in here. Don't come towards me.

Then the clicking footsteps started up again. Heading further down the hall.

My head spun with the relief I felt as well as suddenly allowing myself a slow and quiet breath. I didn't move a single inch as the footsteps got farther and farther away and even when I couldn't hear it anymore I waited a few minutes before taking my hands away from my face and opening my eyes. Chest hurting from my spark begging to be let out so I can defend myself and from my heart trying to race to its death, I twisted without moving my feet and pointed my flashlight. I flicked the switch.

Nothing was in the room but me, the blood, and the machines.

A gust of wind left me as I realized that I was safe. "I think it's gone," I whisper, leaning against the wall for a moment.

"You're almost done," Eric says comfortingly even if I sense the tension vibrating beneath his words. It doesn't escape me that I couldn't hear the others talking quietly to each other anymore. They were just as tense and scared as I was if not more. They couldn't see behind me or know what I was up against. "Just finish the wiring and then let us through. We'll take care of everything else from there."

I nod and straighten, wiping the streaks of tears that had escaped my eyes as I waited to see if the monster would find me. "Okay." My hands are shaking as I hurry to finish my job, ears and instincts straining beyond all belief for anything to warn me. It takes what felt like hours, though I'm sure were minutes, to finally twist the last wire.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the machines behind me hummed to life and lights flickered on before a majority of them exploded. But I still had more light to see by. And I had the power on to let my family through. My smile probably looked ridiculous, but I didn't care. I could get back to the safety of my family now. "Power's back on," I report, voice only a tiny bit more than a whisper now with my new confidence. "It'll only take me a minute to get back to the—"

Click.

Every single muscle in my body froze. Horror and terror crashed through me, stealing all thoughts from my mind.

"Alex?"

My mouth opened and closed with a tiny hitched breath. "Eric… It's right behind me."

Chasing the Flame

That cliffhanger though. Eh… I'll leave you guys to imagine what's going to happen while I go take cover.

Remember to review and check out Sleepy on DA!


	17. Chapter 17

HERE IT IS! ENJOY!

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DA

Plot and OC © me

Chasing the Flame

_I nearly jumped out of my skin when the machines behind me hummed to life and lights flickered on before a majority of them exploded. But I still had more light to see by. And I had the power on to let my family through. My smile probably looked ridiculous, but I didn't care. I could get back to the safety of my family now. "Power's back on," I report, voice only a tiny bit more than a whisper now with my new confidence. "It'll only take me a minute to get back to the—"_

_Click._

_Every single muscle in my body froze. Horror and terror crashed through me, stealing all thoughts from my mind._

"_Alex?"_

_My mouth opened and closed with a tiny hitched breath. "Eric… It's right behind me."_

Then I turned.

I screamed.

It was worse than anything I could imagine. Seven feet tall made of twisted and jagged metal and vaguely resembling the shape of a velociraptor with massive clawed feet to balance on, smaller arms but huge clawed hands, glinting in the new light, and a huge massive tail waving behind it. And the warped metal of its face was inches from mine.

"ALEX!"

I dropped down, hands clamping over my ears as the thing screeched, sounding like metal scraping against metal. A cry of all consuming fear and terror tore itself from my throat when I heard and felt those claws slash at the metal wall above me. Thankfully, the power remained on, but I had more pressing things to worry about. Like running for my god damn life.

I dove to the side, rolling and booking it for the door, begging the creature to stop and not to hurt me. My wings came out of their own will and gave me increased speed as I exited the room, slamming into the opposite wall since I wasn't able to make that sharp of a turn. My shoes scrabbled for traction on the dusty and smooth metal floors as I made to run down the hall with all of my enhanced speed. But even that didn't seem to be enough because, after it slammed out of the Maintenance Room as well, I felt the claws just barely missing my wings. The only thing that kept me from being skewered were the turns. It couldn't take the turns worth a damn and always gave me a bit more room even if it quickly gained on me.

Then I heard more unholy screeches echoing down the hall. "There's more of them!" I shouted brokenly, whipping around the last turn and dashing for the door panel. "Please work!" I depressed the green button once more.

"It opened!" Jazz told me and I jumped when there was a resounding thud from the door closest to me. I could hear Eric and Gabriel frantically bashing the door in the hopes of getting through faster.

Then the thing came barreling into the room. We both froze and stared at each other even though the damn thing _had no facemotherfuckerwhyamIinahorrormovie?!_

It dropped into a crouch and started slowly stalking forward. I grabbed my knives and held them up. "Nice, metal thing. You don't want to kill little Bee. Look, I'm hardly the challenge. Your claws are so much bigger than mine. Let's just stop and _MOTHERFUCKER!_" I dove to the side when it suddenly lunged, clearing half the room to perch on the counter and probably would've killed me if I hadn't moved. I backed up, knives trembling in my hands as I fought to push my emotions away. "Please, please, please don't kill me!"

It hissed and rattled its claws against each other. Then lunged again.

Something bright and red hit it mid leap, sending it crashing to the ground. I have never been more thankful to see Ironhide and his big ass pistol. Prowl dropped to a knee and brought up his rifle, cooling aiming at the furiously screaming metal raptor. He and Ironhide and Jazz all opened fire on the thing when it made to charge them while Ratchet placed a small green force field around me. Eric looked darkly furious as he called up his flames and blasted the creature down with heat that made me cringe even behind my shield.

All sounds ceased for a moment when the thing collapsed, twitching and clicking. Ironhide stalked up to it and held one his guns up before putting three slugs of plasma straight into its head.

"What the fuck is that?" Jazz exclaimed. The force field dropped around me and I just stared at the dead creature. Eric came up to me and wrapped me in a tight hug, asking me if I was alright. I just nodded numbly.

Ratchet curled his lip as he came up to his boyfriend. "It's an abomination. I didn't want to believe it, but the notes in the papers kept hinting that the 'results' were living."

"So you decided to not warn Bee that this thing might be here?" Eric snarled, grip tightening even more.

"Like I could even begin to guess at what they were doing here," Seb snapped. "It was an incomplete report. I only got an inkling that these things could be alive and moving."

"That isn't an excuse to—"

A green plasma shot whizzed between all of us, going down the hall. A pained and enraged shriek came back an instant later. "There are more coming," Prowl reported, not getting up from his kneel as Jazz took up a standing position behind his partner, sonic gun at the ready.

Gabriel cursed as he lifted his pistols once more and began to back up, firing all the way. Eric pushed me towards Prowl and Jazz as Ratchet braced himself, force fields flickering at his fingertips. I watched with a little less fear now that I had my family with me as several more metal raptors sprinted down the hall towards us. Some went down spectacularly from shots and fire. Some were killed. But three of them were still getting too close.

I panicked. Pulling my arm back, I threw one of my knives. It sliced through the air in a yellow, blur, taking off the head of the nearest raptor. I was making to throw my other knife when my first one dug deep into the water fountain, releasing a spray of water. The two raptors sprinted right through it and immediately started screaming, thrashing and falling down in fits of pain and agony as they seemed to steam and melt right before our eyes.

We watched in stunned silence as they stilled and died.

…What?

"Water?" Jazz demands incredulously. "Water is their weakness? Are you kidding me?"

Sebastian relaxed his stance and dropped his hands. "I think we're done for now. But one thing is for sure. Nothing of human make could possibly have spawned those creatures. I don't want to jump to conclusions, but I think we can agree that something Cybertronian is at play here if it isn't the Allspark."

"I thought the Allspark created Cybertronians," I said gingerly stepping forward and over the dead metal to go retrieve my knife before hurrying back. "How could it possibly bring metal to life?"

"I don't know," the doctor admitted, tugging on his green sleeve.

Eric grabbed me and dragged me back into a hug. It was then that I felt the slight tremble in his body. Man, he'd been terrified. "We still have to find out if the Allspark is here and the source of those creatures," he announced. Prime pressed a kiss to the top of my head before nudging me in the direction of the door. "Bee, go back to base."

I stiffened and immediately launched myself back at Eric. "No!"

"Bee—"

I shook my head and clung tighter. "I'm _not_ leaving. I'm not leaving knowing that you all are here with more of those things. Don't make me leave. I _need_ to know that you are all okay."

Eric's hand came up rested on the back of my head. "Alex…" he sighed. "Ironhide."

"Sorry, kid." I cry out when Gabriel's arms suddenly wrapped around me from behind, pulling me from Eric no matter how I tried to cling.

"No!" I shouted, thrashing and kicking. "Put me down! Don't!" The large man grunted as he flexed to keep me from fighting out of his grip. Then I'm being thrown through the open door. My yell is incoherent as I scramble to my feet and throw myself back at them.

Then the door slid shut.

"Eric! Let me out! Let me out! _Eric!_" I pound my fists against the door and ignore the feeling of splitting my knuckles as I do so. Not even shoving my shoulder against it shook them frame. I couldn't break down the door. "Please! Don't do this!"

"Go back to base, Bumblebee," Optimus ordered quietly. Everyone else is dead silent.

"Eric, please. I'm begging you! There was blood everywhere. There were guns and scorch marks. They killed everyone here. They left because they couldn't contain them. They're all dead and you'll die too! You won't even hear them come up behind you. Let me help!"

There was a long pause and, for a second, I thought I got through to him. Then the second door behind me hissed open. "Go, Alex." I sobbed as I listened to Eric order the others to move out. All I could think about was that thing when it stuck up on me. When it chased me through the halls, screaming for my heart. Who knows how many more of them were in the facility? They could be overwhelmed and swamped and killed. I needed to get to them, but this god damn door wouldn't budge!

But the vent…

I quickly muted my mic on my headset, but not the speaker so I could hear them talking to each other, and moved through the second door to look up at the small vent. I could reach it by flying, but there was no way my wings would fit through the vent. There had to be another way to get the necessary height.

I spun and considered the room. The tables would work if they weren't bolted down and would waste my time, but empty bookcases provided places to step on and were plenty tall enough. Rushing over, I grabbed the shelf of one of the empty metal bookcases and heaved for a long moment before scrambling out of the way when it fell with a crash. Frantic not to waste any more time, I crouched low and started dragging the heavy bookshelf across the room and around the tables. It was heavy work, making me sweat, but I finally turned the bookshelf and propped it against the wall next to the vent.

Willing my wings away and taking away my only source of light since I'd dropped my flashlight somewhere, I scrabbled up the shelves and reached for the vent cover. It took me a few tries before I got a good enough grip to hang from and then drag myself up and into the vent. I did a mental victory cheer as I pulled and tugged myself forward as fast as I could through the tiny space. I fell out and didn't waste any time in getting to my feet once more.

I could see a bit better now that some of the lights were on, but it was still disconcerting and downright scary to know that more of those raptor things could be down any one of these halls and I wouldn't know it. And I didn't even know where the guys were let alone what path they took.

My fingers came up to my headset and I turned up the volume on the speaker so I could hear their whispers better.

"What exactly as we looking for?" Gabriel hissed. "A sign that says 'Allspark This Way'?"

"Please," Ratchet snorted. "The papers said they moved the experiments to the Main Observation room. We'll look there first."

"Just as long as none of those Edward Scissorhands wannabes get a chunk of my ass."

Oh. Well that was very helpful. Didn't even listen in for a few seconds and I got a location. Thank you, God and Primus. Or should I say Primus and God? I wonder where I'll go when I die.

Because you are going to die. If not from these raptor freaks than from Gabriel or Eric or even Ratchet for coming back in here.

Thank you, Mr. Positive. Would you like to tell us our odds of our certain deaths?

Certainly, Sargent Sarcasm. I could tell you that you are 100% certain to die from Gabe or one of the others and I wish I could tell you about the raptors but I don't know how many there are.

Smartass. You are not helping here. Trying not to get caught by anyone or anything.

Why bother when you're going to die?

Alright, Captain Cynical. I'm done talking to you. I'd like to at least think I have a chance at living. And a chance at repeating the other night with Eric.

…You're thinking about that in a time like this?

Like you said, I'm going to die. Might as well do it with a happy and hot thought.

…Eh. Alright. Whatever. It is nice thinking.

I felt like face palming as I wrangled my arguing thoughts into silence with pictures and memories of Eric and _that_ night. Quickly, I peered around a corner before continuing when I saw nothing present. So many hallways. Why did every official place have to have a maze of hallways? It's like they wanted you to get lost.

"Wonder how Bee is doing," Jazz muttered.

"He has gone back to base," Prowl replied. "He'll be safe now." It was so, so tempting to just flick on my headset and tell them that I wasn't if only for their shocked reactions.

The Jamaican-French-Creole snorted softly. "You and I both know that that isn't what he's doing."

Gabe grunted. "He's probably waiting by the door for us."

"Nope." Jazz popped his 'p' quietly. "I'll bet you that he's not even there anymore." A smile began to curl my lips. Was I really that predictable?

"What do you mean?" Prime asked slowly.

Jazz's chuckle barely came over the speaker as I followed another turn due to the helpful panels and arrows. "This is Bee we're talking about here. Wily, stubborn, and experienced B&E Bee. Where do you think he is?"

There was a long beat of silence where I was smiling as well as getting a sinking sensation in my stomach. Ratchet suddenly cursed. "We never blocked the vent."

"Yup." Jazz popped his 'p' again. "I know a fellow Spec Ops when I see one and Bee is that." A blush at the honest praise crosses my face. "I'll bet you a beer that he figured out a way back through the vent and has been listening to us the entire time, following us to the main observation room, which Sebby so helpfully mentioned not too long ago. Isn't that right, Bee?"

I flick my mic back on. "You got it in one, Jazz," I answered.

Ironhide's growl and Seb's curses came over the line. "Damn it, kid," Gabe muttered. "We're trying to keep you safe."

"Rather be with you guys than safe," I tell him. "Family, remember?"

I heard Eric sigh. "I should've known better."

I grin. "You're getting there, firebird. Sooner or later you guys will find a way to effectively trap me. Anyway, I think I'm almost caught up with you. Keep going, I'll catch up."

"Kid, we're _not_ leaving you alone any…Shit."

Jazz whistled very, _very_ lowly. "That's a lot of them."

"What?" I asked. "Did you guys get to the observation room?"

"Affirmative," Prowl replied. "And it is where they are all congregated. No Allspark."

Eric grunted. "Looks like they're trying to dig their way out. Maybe that's why we suddenly picked up the radiation signal. Maybe these things are giving off the signal because they were created by the Allspark."

"That could be it," Seb conceded. "But we can't let them get out. Can you imagine what would happen if all of them were released into the city?"

"Scary thought," Jazz and I chorused before snickering tensely.

"We need water. And lots of it," Gabriel stated and I heard his guns warming up through the speaker. "Maybe we could lure them somewhere? A place we can fill with water?"

"All of them? There has to be at least a hundred down there," Ratchet hissed.

Jazz suddenly made a happy sound. "Why bring them to the water when we can bring the water to them? See those huge vents down there? Those are water valves. It's a security measure to destroy an entire place and take any and all information with them. They used to be a pain in my ass, but I guess in this instant they'll be useful."

I do a double take as I'm walking before stopping and staring at the narrow staircase in front of me. "A security measure?" I repeated. "The controls for that wouldn't happen to be in a security office, would they?"

"Bee, you are amazing," Jazz murmurs. "You just saved us a crap ton of time. Go up to the office and see what you can do, alright?" I smile, glad for the first time that I came back before climbing up the spiraling stairs.

"We still need to draw all the creatures from the halls," Prowl points out. "I know the facility will be entirely flooded, but it is better to be safe than sorry."

Eric asks, "How do you suggest drawing them here?"

"Live bait," both cops say at the same time.

Jazz giggles maniacally. "I'm going to blow stuff up."

The blond doctor sighs. "I suppose it'll fall upon me to make sure that these one's don't come up and try to eat us."

"I've got your back," Gabe assures him.

"And I will keep as many back from your shield as I can," Eric offers.

"So we got a plan?" the ex-Special Forces asked giddily. "How are you on that office, Bee?"

"I just got here," I report, walking down the narrow hallway, glancing into the small rooms branching off from it but ultimately heading to the one room at the end of the hall. I saw rooms like an armory, bunks, and a tiny lounge.

"Jazz, Prowl, go get ready to draw them in," Prime orders. "Alex, do you see the valve controls?"

I walk into the room and grimace at the blood that was sprayed on the walls and on the floor, but my eyes are on the window. Curious, I walk over to it and peer down and gulp. I must be seeing the main observation room because on the floor is about a hundred of those metal raptors just milling about slowly. A few, about three or four, were attacking one wall where they'd broken through the thick metal sheeting, digging at the dirt and trying to get free. To the right of my view I saw a staircase that led to a large doorway. That was where I could see my family, crouched and looking at the raptors.

Snapping back to attention, I look at the counter I'm next to with all the shiny buttons and doodads. My eyes scan over the labels until I find a red one reading 'EMERGENCY FLOOD WATER' with a button underneath it. And the key hole next to it. Shit. "Yeah, but I need a key."

Quickly, I look over the counter and duck down to see if a key was laying anywhere on the ground. Then I turn around and freeze. There's a raptor in the room, laying just behind the door. I wait an endless moment, fearing it would get up. But it just stayed curled up, flicking its tail slowly. Sleeping? Then, as I'm watching the creature for any movement, I see the skeleton hand the thing is laying on. Laced through the fingers is a ring with a key on it.

Of course. Of fucking course.

I debated whether to tell the others that I was standing in the same room as my possible death before deciding against it. We needed the valve control and everyone else was already in positions they couldn't leave. As slowly as possible, I get down on my hands and knees and crawl closer despite my every instinct telling me to run away. It doesn't move except to flick its tail like a cat, metal body seeming to absorb whatever light was around it.

With a slightly shaking hand, I reach out towards the skeleton hand. Eyes flicking between the key and the beast, I grasp the little slip of metal and slowly lift it off of bone fingers. I almost can't believe my luck when the key is free and in my hand and the raptor isn't leaping to tear my throat out. Backing up, I stand—always keeping the raptor in my sight—and push the key into the key hole. My shoulders sag when it fits perfectly and allows me to turn it, making the button glow.

"Found the key. Ready to flood this place," I whisper.

"We're almost done with our work," Prowl reports as well. "Time until completion: two minutes."

"We read you," Eric acknowledges. "Bumblebee, push that button when I tell you to."

"Gotcha." I glance at the sleeping raptor once more, wondering how I'm going to push the button when this thing wakes up with Jazz's explosions. I look around for a hiding place when my eyes fall upon security monitors.

A thought hits me with the strength of a train. Maybe the cameras caught what happened before this place was abandoned. Maybe they saw where the Allspark was taken. Padding over, always keeping an eye on the raptor, I fiddle quietly with a few buttons and switches at the base of the monitors until they come to life. The ten screens start cycling through images, but I fuss with the ancient controls and faded symbols. Where was the rewind button? A few more moments of pushing buttons, I finally get all of the screens to start stop before backing up. It was only a few seconds of present footage before all the screens suddenly jumped and they were filled with people.

My eyes darted over the screens, watching as scientists in white coats ran panicked and security officers, armed to the teeth, fired at the charging raptors. But their guns weren't nearly as effective as Cybertronian guns and failed. I felt sick as I watched silver and black claws flash in and out of bodies, blood spraying everywhere, with obvious ease and no sense of mercy. Despite the horrible and awful sight—it was the first time I'd ever seen someone killed in real life and I was sure I was going to have nightmares—I still searched for anything that might be the Allspark.

My fingers frantically mashed the pause button when I caught a glimpse of something. Pressing play and glancing back to make sure I was still safe, I focused on the screen. I watched as a scientist with a dark cube in his arms runs for his life with the security guards trying to slow the raptors. My body actually shudders as I watch the raptors tear through the guards like nothing. In normal speed I could track the individual blood spatter and the horrified and pained expressions on their face as they slipped away into death.

The shots rotate and I follow the progress of the running scientist as he makes for the door we all came through. He only just makes it with the raptors ramming into the door in anger and fury that their prey escaped. And he left the place altogether, taking the Allspark with him.

Great. It wasn't here.

I'm about to tell the others about my discovery when the ground shakes suddenly. The raptor in the room screeches and I dive under the counter, hoping it didn't see me. The metal being lumbers to its clawed feet and rushes out the door, following the calls of its friends. Glad that didn't turn out ugly.

"Over here, you pieces of scrap metal!" Jazz screamed over the headset. I wince and turn down the volume. "Come to papa!" His crazy laughing has me more than a little worried.

"I won't be able to hold this for long, Prime," Ratchet says and I crawl out from my hiding place to see that Ratchet has called up a force field to cover the entire staircase, preventing the frenzied raptors from getting up at them. The room brightened as Eric called his fire, waving his arms and hands to manipulate the walls and streams of fire to try and push the raptors away from the green force fields.

"We'll be there in a minute," Prowl informs then.

I could see Ratchet wincing and paling from where I was. "I don't have a minute! Get your asses here _now_."

Jazz giggled again. "The Hatchet has spoken, Prowler. Come on!" Over the speakers I could hear the growing sound of the raptors screeching. They were either getting closer to the cops or just picking up all their friends.

And then I realize something. If there are raptors down on the main floor and the cops will be bringing the rest of them down the only exit, which was at their backs, then how were they going to get out from a two-sided attack. Worried, I point out the flaw in the plan.

Ratchet grunts painfully. "Don't worry, kid. I've got it covered."

"INCOMING!" Jazz bellowed.

I watched closely as Ratchet suddenly flung out his hand and brought a horizontal force field into existence as Gabriel started shooting down the hall at the approaching raptors. I understood the meaning of that new force field when Optimus landed on it. It was a platform.

Jazz and Prowl came sprinting out of the hall like no one's business, leaping for the safety of the platform. Ironhide then grabbed Ratchet around the waist and leapt. The shield on the stairs dissolved and was replaced by one that covered their little platform just as a wave of raptors came gushing out of the hallway. I actually lose sight of the group huddled under Ratchet's protection in the sudden onslaught of metal bodies, but I most certainly don't lose my hearing when Eric yells, "Bumblebee! Now!"

My fingers fumble for the button and I push it with a click. Then the whole place starts shaking bad enough that I stumble. This roaring sound fills the air and it gets so loud that it's all I can think about, pounding this one music note into my head. Until there's a sudden crashing noise, like a waterfall, and the main observation room is filled with the dying screeches of the raptors as they start melting. I push myself to go back to the window and watch as Ratchet dissolves his force field and everyone jumps off once more, running for the door and towards the exit, though it doesn't escape my notice that Ratchet is pale and stumbles after he jumps.

I turn once they're out of sight and run for the stairs, nearly killing myself as I take them two at a time going down. I reach the bottom just as Prowl and Jazz round the corner with the other three right behind them. No words have to be shared as I join the group in running as the place shakes once more. Even with their wings out and mine not I keep up with them only because the ground is so slippery and shaky that they can't risk going any faster than we already are or we'll fall down.

I don't think anyone thought that wall of water would come out of nowhere, knocking all of us off of our feet and sliding down a turn we did not want to take. I'm sure we would've kept going for a good distance if Seb hadn't thrown out yet another force field, holding the water back as we regain out feet and get back on track.

Water is beginning to reach our ankles when we finally reach the door. Jazz is already opening the door and Prowl is holding it open for everyone and slams it shut as soon as we dart inside.

We all stand there, leaning against each other or the walls as we try and catch our breath, dripping water. As we wait for the second door to open and let us out, Jazz smiles at us, strained but still honest. "All in favor of never doing that again?" he calls, taking off his sunglasses and ineffectively trying to dry his lenses on his wet silver shirt. All of our hands go up and we all go out when the door opens.

I go to Eric as we all stop in the computer room, shutting the second door for hopefully the last time. We draw each other into an embrace and just stand there. I shiver as Eric's warmth reaches through the cold water that's soaking my clothes. I'm not sure what words to say, so I just hold onto Eric until we're ready to go home.

And then Ratchet collapses.

"Seb!" Gabe cries out, looking more scared than I've ever seen before as we all rush over to the downed medic. Ironhide carefully drops down to his knees and gathers his lover in his arms, watching sadly as the medic's metallic wings droop and shiver while his normally glowing gi pulses faintly, fighting to keep bright. "You idiot," the veteran murmurs before pressing his palm to his unconscious lover's chest.

I watch in slowly fading fear and growing awe as something wispy and bright begins to coalesce just above where Gabe put his hand. Faint, writhing lines of pale green, bordering on white, come around the blond man's chest, moving towards the ball of light that is steadily getting more solid. Then Ironhide's hand begins to glow as ethereal tendrils of white begin to wind their way down from the larger man's chest, over his arm, and into the ball of light hovering over Ratchet's chest. Instantly, the pain-pinched and exhausted look on the doctor's face fades into relaxation and peace.

Gabriel continues to do whatever it is he's doing for another minute before pulling back and all faint tendrils and balls of light disappear. Ratchet is limp and sound asleep in his arms and back in his normal clothes as Gabriel stands up, securely holding the blond man to his chest. "Let's get home before he wakes up and tries to walk." He doesn't even wait for us, just heads over to the stairs to head outside. Jazz and Prowl are right behind him with Eric and I bringing up the rear.

"What happened?" I ask quietly though I know everyone can hear me.

"We can only use so much of our energy," my boyfriend answers, putting his arm back over my shoulders. I've noticed that he just seems to like holding me to his side, so he'll do this whenever he can. "We can't keep our wings out for long or, in Ratchet's case, use our given abilities too much or else we'll strain our spark. That is why he collapsed; he used his force fields too much."

"And what Gabe did?"

"What you saw was something that can only be done between spark mates. That is the Cybertronian way of saying they were destined for one another. Soul mates literally. Their sparks are attracted to each other on a level not even Cybertronians can detect, allowing them to transfer spark energy between each other for pleasure, to relieve spark strain, or to save each other's lives." Eric looks down at me as we get to the top before letting me go to move the bookcase back to cover the stair entrance. I help him as he continued to explain. "I'm told that it's rare to find your spark mate, but it is obviously possible."

I nod, thoughtful as we exit the building and head for our parked cars. Sparks were the Cybertronian version of a human heart. So, when transferring spark energy…one was really giving their heart for the one they loved.

Huh.

Chasing the Flame

So…I'm tempted to do more cliffhangers because it seems that I doubled in reviewers in this chapter… Eh, I don't know just yet. Btw, THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED OR FOLLOWED. You guys are absolutely great and I try and respond to each review, but sometimes one slips past me and I'm sorry for that.

And we have quite a few major plot steps here. And Eric's attempts at protecting Bee are an epic fail. Poor guy. Bee is going to keep giving him heart attacks. Good thing they're immortal.

I hope this chapter lived up to everyone's expectations! Tell me what you think in the review box below and I will love you forever. Go check out sleepyoldvamp on Deviant Art and I'll love you for forever and ever and ever.


	18. Chapter 18

WARNING: HINTS OF SMUT IN THIS CHAPTER. I've already censored the dirty stuff for those of you who don't want to read it, but I'll leave a link for the dirty stuff on my profile page.

AND WE HAVE PLOT! Yes! Massive Plot here, yes there is. Finally, were' getting to the end.

Here you go! Enjoy!

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DA

Plot and OCs © me

Chasing the Flame

I jolted into a sitting position, hand clamped instinctively over my mouth to stifle any sound I made as I came out of my nightmare. For a long moment, I sat in my bed, breathing hard as I stared unseeing at the dark wall in front of me before I slumped and ran a hand through my hair. "Primus."

Slowly, I got out of my bed and opened my door, slipping into the hallway. I just needed to make sure everyone was okay and alive. My feet took me down the hall to the door to Seb's and Gabe's room. Aware that the good doctor was a light sleeper, I took my time turning the door knob and opening the door. If I was caught peeking like a creeper while they were sleeping I would either get shot by Gabe or asked questions I didn't want to answer by Sebastian. I wasn't sure which one I would prefer, but a bit of tension left my body when I saw two bodies breathing easily through the darkness. Not wanting to push my luck, I closed the door and moved on.

I couldn't exactly check on Jazz or Prowl without it being obvious that I was worried, so I moved to Eric's door. My hand trembled as bloodied images and sharp claws flashed before my mind's eye while screams and pleas for help echoed in my ears, but I stilled it enough to turn the doorknob and peek in.

Eric lay on his bed, limbs thrown in every which direction, stomach down and blanket kicked off of him. I don't know why he insisted on having a blanket when he could keep himself plenty warm with his inner fire especially if he always ends up kicking the blanket off of him. But who was I to complain when he slept in his boxers and I got an eyeful of his wonderful body? If I wasn't coming off such a horrible nightmare I might've had the confidence to climb in with him and cuddle but I thought I would go down into the training room and go through my cool-down katas.

I was just about to close the door to his room when he took a deep breath and suddenly popped up, scaring the ever-living shit out of me. He blinked blearily while I struggled to get my heart down to a reasonable pace. "'lex?"

"Sorry," I whisper, backing out of the room.

He shakes his head and scrubs his face. "No. 'Meer." He holds his arm up in invitation. I only hesitate briefly before going forward and sliding in on my stomach under his arm. He drops it heavily across my back and I wiggle my arm to go across his lower back. "Waz wrong?" he asks sleepily. "Your spark woke me."

I couldn't help but smirk. "So that's what it takes to wake you up," I tease and get a harrumph.

"Answer."

"Just a nightmare," I murmur, putting my face into the pillow and closing my eyes.

"Wanna talk?"

I hum thoughtfully before shaking my head. "I don't want to be giving you my nightmares, firebird. Can I sleep in here tonight?"

The arm on my back presses down firmer. "Wouldn't let you leave anyway. Need my cuddle Bee."

I snort in laughter when he suddenly moves, wrapping both arms around me and rolling onto his back and taking me with him. I lay supine on Eric, amused as he seemed to immediately drift off to sleep. Wiggling around, I got into my favorite position—not sexually, you horny teenagers—when it came to lying on Eric, which was chest to chest. Burying my face in Eric's shoulder, I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent. WarmwarmwarmwarmMYASS.

I smacked his chest when he groped my butt suddenly, making me yelp. "Go to sleep, Phoenix."

He smirks and tightens his hand, making me squeak. "Mine." He jolts when I suddenly sink my teeth into his pec. The hand comes down and spanks me. "No."

My teeth come out from their light bite and I lick the spot while bringing my hand up to pinch his nipple. "Yes," I tease back. Our eyes meet, his more awake now, and I can just tell that this night is going to get more interesting.

**CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!**

**CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!CENSOR!**

"You're so full of shit."

"I'm not! I'm telling the truth, aren't I, Prowler?"

"I'm referee. Therefore, not a part of this."

"You didn't hotwire a car in two minutes. That's impossible."

"But it is! The crook didn't even know his car was gone until he came out of the crapper."

"Proof, Jazz. You have to give proof for the point."

"Urg, fine. Okay, so it was real easy to open his hood because the car was unlocked. I went around the front and…"

I snickered as Jazz began to go into detail about his rescue of a kidnapped girl, stopping a hostage situation and rape before it could even get started. The game was to tell the most ridiculous stories and convince the judges, Ratchet and Chase, you were telling the truth. If one of them was convinced you got half a point. If you got both of them convinced you got one point. Right now Jazz was fighting for his half point lead on Gabe with Eric a whole point-and-a-half behind Mr. Teddy Mountain. It really didn't surprise me that Eric couldn't lie worth a damn. He'd always been the one I picked up on before I knew about the Cybertronians and everything. He couldn't lie to save his life.

Sebastian hummed thoughtfully. "That was a very thorough explanation," he mused. "A little too thorough and convenient for me. I'm going to call bull."

"He is lying," Prowl agreed. "He did it in two minutes and 17 seconds."

I laughed as Jazz groaned in disappointment.

"My turn, loser," Ironhide said, sounding eager. "Alright, so when I was over in Iraq…"

My attention on the game stopped when upper right hand corner monitors suddenly beeped and flash warnings. "Not again," I murmured quietly as I called up the map.

"'Again', kid?" Gabriel repeated in confusion and offense. "You ain't never heard of this story."

"Not that," I snap. "I'm picking up a spark signature. It's moving in fast from the South East. In fact, it should be passing over you in a few seconds, Ratch'."

"Decepticons?" Eric demanded, all amusement gone.

"Unknown."

"Ratchet—"

"I'm taking cover and watching," the doctor reported quickly and we all waited in silence.

My eyes were glued to the screen, watching as the distance between the blond man and the spark signature shrunk at an alarming rate until they were right on top of each other. And the spark signature kept going. I blinked when Ratchet didn't say anything. "Did you see it?" I demand, moving the map's view to follow the blinking red dot. "It went right over you, Doc."

"I only saw a helicopter," he admitted defensively.

My eyes narrow as my hands and fingers tapped against the glass panels, manipulating the maps and data with ease. "It's heading for the inner city. Prowl, see if you can get up high and get eyes on that helicopter." A little voice in the back of my head whispered that someone as young and inexperienced as me shouldn't be ordering any of the other men around, but I reasoned that I had eyes on what was going on and needed to take steps so we could have the necessary information.

"Moving," the stoic police officer.

I kept the map focused on the moving dot. "It's slowing," I report. "And starting to change direction. Almost like it's circling."

There was a brief pause before Prowl's voice came back over the line. "I've got eyes. It's a black helicopter with no ID numbers on the tail. It's circling Stars Incorporated." I frown. How could any aircraft be in the air without identifying themselves? It was against the law, wasn't it? "It's landing." There's a brief pause before Prowl mutters to himself in another language. "Armed humans are getting out and they have Starscream restrained with his wings out."

"What?!" I'm pretty sure everyone choruses.

"They're leading him inside. He seems dazed and uncoordinated."

I blink when my monitor's beeping suddenly stops and the red dot disappears altogether. Entering a reboot, I frown even deeper when the red dot still does not come back. "I've lost the spark signature," I murmur, sitting back in my chair with a hand over my mouth. "Stars Incorporated."

"Everyone, head back to base for a meeting. Prowl, are you sure it was him?" Eric demands. "Are you absolutely certain it was Starscream?"

"Yes. I could not mistake him for anyone else."

"How the fuck did humans manage to catch a 'Con?" Gabriel exclaims. No one answers though a worry settles into all of our stomachs. If they caught Starscream, the proclaimed fastest flier in the Decepticon army, then we would be easy pickings for them. "Shit! The cowardly bastard will probably tell those humans about us!"

That was a very disconcerting thought given that the 'Cons also knew where our base was. "He'd probably trade information for his own hide," Jazz muttered darkly. "And we'd be the first thing he'd give up."

"Perhaps we can extract Starscream before he has a chance to give the information," Prowl offers.

Gabriel spluttered. "What? Go rescue a 'Con? Are you nuts?! Screamer would turn on us the first chance he got."

"No," Sebastian argued. "Prowl is right, but I disagree with Jazz. Starscream has always been proud to be a Cybertronian, looking down on humans. Even if we are his enemy, I don't think he'd sell out his own species the first chance he got."

"So we might have a little time to get in and grab him," Eric concludes.

"Are we seriously considering this?" Ironhide asks hotly. "How many times has that traitorous bitch nearly killed us? I say fuck'im! Let him rot under a human microscope."

"That's not the Autobot way, Ironhide," Prime scolds lightly. "And we are not doing it for him. We are doing it so he does not pass on potentially harmful information about us. I, personally, do not want to see any one of us become a human experiment." Gabe huffs, but concedes the point.

Jazz mumbles in French before speaking up. "And just how do we plan on getting him out? Stars Incorporated is a multi-billion dollar company that specializes in technology and security. Even I'd be hard pressed to just bust in."

"We'd have to infiltrate them," Prowl states coolly.

"We don't have that large of a window," Ratchet points out.

"I do not think we'd have to completely infiltrate the department dealing with Starscream. Just enough to get into the building. I believe that we are skilled enough in espionage to complete this task."

Jazz snorts. "Barely." He pauses. "Maybe they're hiring right now. You know, big company with a huge security office and a decent sized car engineering department. Bee, do you think you can look that up?"

My name shakes me out of my fuzzy thoughts. "Sure," I reply quietly, fishing my phone out of my pocket and typing into Google 'Stars Incorporated Jobs'.

"You're being awful quiet, Bee," Ratchet observes.

I tap the link that said 'Apply Now at Your Nearest Stars Incorporated!'. "Just thinking," I answer distractedly, mind going three ways as I work on my phone, talk with Ratchet, and keep trying to figure out what's bothering me.

"About what?"

My fingers tap on my screen as I put in my location information and wait for it to load all nearby locations. "Stars Incorporated. I swear I've seen or heard that name recently."

"Maybe you saw it on TV," Jazz suggested and I could practically hear the shrug he was doing. "They have a lot of commercials going on and on about their latest doodads. Remember? They're the company that keeps promising robot protectors."

"Not that." I select the skyscraper in the inner city as the location I wanted to apply at. "Somewhere else."

Gabe suddenly spoke up again, done sulking apparently. "Does it bother anyone else that these humans have an alien and haven't reported it? I'm sure it would've been all over the news if that was the case." Shoot. I hadn't thought of that. My mind went in a fourth direction now.

"Maybe they did report him," I think aloud. "Government always seems to have their fingers in all the pies. What if SI was just asked to do some studies?"

"That's a scary thought," Jazz muttered.

Eric cleared his throat. "Let's pretend that that isn't the case. What could SI possibly gain from studying Starscream? They're not big in biology. Not that I've heard."

"Scientific evidence and study," Ratchet suggested dryly as I look at the short list of jobs available at the skyscraper. "This would probably be the first documented case that there is of other life in the universe besides humans."

"Possibly even come up with new breakthroughs in the medical world," Prowl pipes up. "We are physically different from humans. Maybe they hope to unlock a few secrets or techniques to use."

"Maybe," Gabe muttered. "How's the search coming, kid?"

I sigh. "Not good. Unless any of you want to be a business executive we're not getting in the job route."

"Merde," Jazz cursed.

"But," I interrupt before he can go on a tangent. "There is an internship for the engineering department accepting applications right now."

I've never heard such a resounding and forceful, "_NO._"

"Aw, come one, guys!" I protested. "The process is going to end in two days and then they'll review all the applicants. I'll get a call back within a week and get my way into SI. Nice and easy."

"Absolutely not," Prowl cuts in, steel in his voice. "If you were caught in a restricted area you'd be arrested and processed and it would either end with them discovering that you're a Cybertronian or you getting a black mark on your public record."

Ratchet comes up the stairs into the base, the first to return, and looks at me with narrowed green eyes. "I agree. You have your whole life ahead of you, Bumblebee. And we won't let you ruin some opportunities at a great future simply because we let you go in after Starscream."

"My whole life is eternity!" I cry. "Eventually none of us are going to look our real age and we're going to have to pick up shop and move someplace else with new identities and backgrounds. Not to mention that part of my life is that of an Autobot. I'm just as much at risk as all of you if not more from how recent my name and face has been in the legal database as well as being in high school. This is the easiest and quickest way for us to get to Starscream. And if I'm caught I can most likely talk my way out of it, pretending I'm a lost and nervous intern who got turned around."

"No one can out talk Starscream," Eric argues, coming up the stairs too. "He is a dangerous and clever enemy who is likely to stab you in the back even as you are rescuing him."

"Not to mention you're not even halfway finished training," Gabe adds over the headset. "You would get your ass handed to you if Screamer decided to get violent."

I didn't have a counter argument to that and turned some of my attention to my phone. I'm going to refresh the page when my finger accidentally brushes the 'Stars Incorporated Logo History' link. Absently trying to back out of the link, I say, "Well do you have any other ideas? This is the safest way to get into SI and if we don't we risk everyone here. The many matter more than one person, right? Besides, it's my life and…" I trail off as the logos page loads despite my efforts.

My eyes are glued to the second most recent logo. I ignore the words explaining the importance of the logo as my world narrows down to that small picture on my phone. It was a sideways Star Trek looking arrow with the words 'Stars Incorporated' written on it. The memory suddenly clicks in my head and my mind reels from the ramifications. I jump out of my seat and rush over to Ratchet, shoving my phone in his face. "Do you recognize that?" I demand.

Sebastian scowls at me, but looks at my phone. A puzzled look replaces the irritation as he takes my wrist in hand to still what he's looking at. "It's familiar…"

"It was at the top of the page of the report."

Green eyes sharpen and lock onto mine. "That's right. But that would mean…" He pales.

"What?" Gabriel demanded as he and Jazz come up the stairs. "What's going on?"

"The report at the research facility," the doctor elaborates as I take my phone back and skim through the information. "It was talking about the Allspark. Bee confirmed that when he told us about the security footage. But at the top of the report was the old logo for SI."

"They changed it four years ago," I informed them, looking up at everyone minus Prowl. "And given the time it must've taken to construct that facility we can safely say that they've had the Allspark for at least a decade. Maybe more."

"So they now have both the Allspark and Starscream," Prowl murmurs, sounding troubled.

"And they made those creatures on purpose," Eric said, hand coming over his mouth.

Gabriel curls his lip in disgust and anger. "Why would they possibly want to create those abominations?"

"Remember when I said they were always going on about robot protectors?" Jazz asked. "I'll bet you my favorite pair of shades that those things were their attempts at making them."

Zooming in my screen view, I grimaced as I leaned against a wall. "And they're in their final stages of making them. It says here that they plan on releasing their first 'Robo-Responders' in a year and a half to the open market."

"This is…not good," Prowl says as he finally joins us.

My fingers go back a few pages until the internship application comes up. "So I guess I'll get to applying?" Reluctant nods and grunts went all around.

"Make sure you keep this mic undisturbed," Jazz told me seriously as he put the small device in the fold of my collar. "You won't be able to hear us, but we'll be able to hear you. If you ever need to be pulled out just say 'Cybertron' and we'll give you the opportunity to get away."

It's the seventh time since I've been told that but I don't say anything. "Got it." Jazz and I were currently borrowing Prowl's apartment for our final preparations.

"And remember:_ always _stay in character." His hands came up and grabbed my face so I could look at his deadly serious and worried gold eyes. "Even if they somehow figure out who you are and say your name don't give in. You'll be showing them that they can't intimidate you into giving up information." I nodded, seeing the logic in that. Mind games. "What's your story?"

"My name is Gregory Hall. I'm 16 years old and I _love_ tinkering." I brought up a naïve and excited smile that Jazz had once told made me look a bit younger and dumber than I really was. The cop stepped back, arms crossed as he watched my performance. "My mama doesn't quite understand my need to see how things work, but my papa taught me everything I know. I really hope that if I get this internship I'll be able to learn even more and actually start a career."

Jazz nodded slowly, sharp eyes darting as I moved and shifted and taking in every single mannerism. "Date of birth."

"February 8th, 1998. My dad got me a tool kit for my birthday this year." I brought my hands up and clapped a little in happiness.

"Address."

"4532 8th Ave. We've been there since I was born."

"Favorite Book."

I jolted for only a millisecond as I was asked for information I didn't already have memorized. Covering up my little slip in excitement, I put a finger to my chin and looked up at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. "That's a hard one," I stalled. "But I think my favorite is _Engineering for Dummies_. I _still_ use it for help sometimes."

A smile finally touched Jazz's lips and he nodded again. "Good. Very good. Not professional, but passing."

I dropped the act and smiled back. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me, Alex. I'm just making sure that when you go in you have the best chance of coming out alive and successful. Now, how do you feel?"

"Alex or Gregory?"

"Alex."

A hand went up to my now brown hair and rubbed through the locks as I sighed. "Nervous. I know I should be avoiding situations like this or the facility or when you got hurt, but…" I bring a hand up to my now green eyes and rub them. "I know I need to do them. I feel like it's an…obligation because if I don't do it than all of you could get hurt or just have a harder time at the things we've done recently. I-I just…" I sigh again and look at my hands, now dyed a darker shade than what I usually was.

Jazz's hand comes down on my shoulder. "The life of a Special Operations agent is never easy, Alex," he murmurs and I look up to see a hurting and tired look on his face. It twisted my spark to see such a look on the jovial man's face, so I went forward and wrapped him up in a hug. He returns it gently. "You and I, we're the ones that do the dirty work. We do the jobs that the others would balk at and we do it so their lives are easier." I nod against his shoulder. I didn't want to give Jazz stiches, but Prowl would've had it harder if I failed to do that. Even though I went back into the facility there was a part of me that didn't want to; didn't want to face the terrifying raptors and death once more, but if I hadn't they would've spent more time in a dangerous area searching for the valve controls.

"And it's never easy, Alex. Never. Especially when you have to cover up what you're doing to keep them from picking up your sacrifices. Because we both know that if they knew the risks that we took they would do their best to keep us from doing our jobs." I nod again, thinking back to the time I hadn't told the others about the raptor in the security room or how I didn't tell them about the blood or the claw marks in the Maintenance Room. I didn't want to worry them needlessly.

"It sucks when they try and keep me safe," I add slowly. "They keep giving me this tempting option to go home and let them do it. But I _can't_."

The ex-Special Forces laughed without mirth. "That can be a bitch. But we stick together no matter what. Prowl might sort of understand what we do, but he's always by-the-book and Mr. Regulations. We cover each other's asses and make sure that we keep up this cheery and happy front because if we drop that façade for even a second…"

"…They'll see that truth." Jazz nods against my shoulder and tightens his hold.

"I've done a lot of things, Alex. Things I'm going to be repenting for the rest of my immortal life even as I keep doing them. I may be an Orleans boy who went into the military, but the second I was chosen for the Black Regiment that innocent and optimistic boy died. And I was spawned." Jazz sighed and tilted his head so his chin was on my shoulder. "I killed my own baby sister, Bee. What kind of monster does that? I killed my own family. What's to stop me from killing this one? From killing you?"

My blood chills when I suddenly feel the tiny press of a knife against my back, but I don't physically react at all. "Because you're crying," I whisper.

Jazz chuckles darkly. "My eyes are dry, kid."

I shake my head and move one of my hands from his back to press against his chest. "I mean in here. Your spark and heart are crying. I can feel it." And I did. When I'd first had my wings emerge I'd been too new to my own spark to do more then pick up locations and strong emotions of the other Autobots, but now, if I were close enough, I could perceive deeper and hidden emotions. It took me a while to figure out what that tiny, cold, and heavy corner of Jazz's spark was. It took me even longer to finally see that behind his happy and joking mask he was begging us to forgive him.

I pressed my hand harder to his chest and drew my spark forward a bit, letting my skin glow a little in my natural yellow and warm light. "I love you, Jazz. You are my twin brother. I want you with me now and always. I forgive you."

Jazz's breath caught as he froze and didn't move for a very long moment. Then the knife at my back disappeared and Jazz relaxed. I could feel the strained smile on his face as well as the grieving and maybe a slight sliver of hope. "You see too much, Bee," he says.

"No." I pulse brighter. "I see less than I should. I can't begin to understand what you've seen and done while in Special Operations, but I accept you, blood, kills, scars, and all. I'm with you and you are with me."

Jazz's grip becomes near painful as he buries his face in my shoulder, trembling faintly. I move my hand on his back up and down soothingly, feeling his spark break and become a maelstrom of darker emotions. Self-hatred, grief, agony, guilt, fury…hope. Love. Happiness. "Love you, Bee," he murmurs hoarsely.

"I love you too, Jazz." I know he can sense my spark the way I can sense his, so I try and project my love for him as a brother, the other half that understands and sees more than I think Eric ever will, my determination to not allow him to hurt himself anymore, my unwavering belief that Jazz was good and could do good. He mumbled something. "What?"

The corn-rowed head lifts itself slightly. "I said, 'Cleansing Light'. That's what you are on this team and family. You see our sins and doubts and just accept them, washing them away from our minds."

A blush comes to my face. "Thank you."

Jazz laughs, sounding a bit like the man I see every day and a bit like the struggling man I know he is. He pats and rubs my back before pulling back. "You've changes all of our lives, Alex. You've done something for all of us. I've never seen Sebby act like he has around you, like an older brother. I've never seen ol' Gabe accept a stranger as fast as he has or take on another little brother. Even Prowl is more willing to come around and relax that stick up his ass." I smile at his description and words, blush growing by the second. "And Eric…Alex, I don't know if you can even see it, but you've turned that man around. Before you came along he was always thinking about the Allspark, the Autobots, the Decepticons, and Cybertron. He's never showed any real interest in anything else let alone in a relationship until you broke into the Autoshop."

I look down to hide my face and Jazz puts a finger under my chin to get me to look at him again. "No. Don't ever be ashamed of your accomplishments. We've never had as many dinners together than before you came here. We've never all gone out on patrol together as many times in the past month than we have in years. We've never gotten along as well as we have now that you're here.

Do you see what I'm saying, Bee? You made us a family. Before you we were a team and close friends, but never those final few steps to become a family. You've done that. You've changed us. And it's all for the better."

My face is burning and my spark spinning from the passion and belief in Jazz's words. I didn't think I had that big of an impact on anybody. I mean they've acted like family for as long as I've been coming around. Sure, we all seemed to be closer now than when I first started coming around, but…that wasn't me, was it? I shake my head and smile weakly at Jazz. "I'm glad we're a family," I reply neutrally but honestly.

Jazz nods and pats my shoulders, glancing at the clock. "Alright. We'll leave in a few minutes. I've done everything I can for you. Prowl has laid out a plan for you, but you're going to have to figure out how to get into the lower research levels, find Starscream and any information on the Allspark with a possible extraction if you can manage it, and then get out. The extraction is going to be the hardest part by far. Just remember this: people will believe what they want to believe. Work with that."

"I hear you."

"And, Alex?" I look at the suddenly serious Jazz again. "Starscream _will_ turn on you before you get out of the building. Be ready."

"I will be."

Chasing the Flame

Finally we have an Alex and Jazz moment. I do intend to keep Bee in his scout position as much as possible; hence why I keep bringing up Special Operations. Jazz went through stuff the government will forever deny and it has left its disfiguring scars on him. He sees the potential in Alex, but doesn't want him to have to bear all of the mental and physical torture Jazz had to endure by preparing our favorite character as best as Jazz can.

And I do see Jazz as Bee's twin brother. Both just have this click and bond that Bee doesn't have with anyone else.

And now we enter the absolute final arc of the story. I think another four or five chapters and the story is finished. I'll warn you now I tried to keep this as grounded in reality as possible on my limited and sheltered knowledge, but even I got lazy sometimes and just said fuck it with some parts. Sorry, but I tried my best.

Off to rescue Starscream!

Make sure you leave a review and go check out sleepyoldvamp over at DeviantArt!


	19. Chapter 19

So here's the next chapter. We're off to rescue Starscream! Pft. Starscream is a damsel in distress. Let me go find a picture of that. I'll admit this, I made this really easy on Bee. If I wanted this to be realistic I would've put a lot more obstacles and wrinkles in the plan, but apparently I didn't so… Yeah. It's a little fudged.

Hope you enjoy the chapter.

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DeviantArt

Plot and OCs © me

Chasing the Flame

I stare up at the tower as I walk towards it, craning my neck back to see the gigantic logo at the top of the glass skyscraper. Turning, I wave at Jazz who is still parked in his Pontiac Solstice at the curb. He smiles and waves back before merging into traffic. I knew he would park his car a little ways away and then come back around on foot to provide support if I needed it. Glancing around, I could see Prowl sitting on a bench, reading a book. Gabe was easy to see from where he was leaning against a wall and eating a street vendor hotdog. I could feel that Eric and Sebastian were near, but I surprisingly couldn't pick them out.

Moving on, I enter the building and look around the massive, sleek, and modern lobby. I gaped the appropriate amount of time before looking around for the reception desk and heading over. A nice pretty lady looked up as I approached. I fidgeted a little bit and smiled shyly at the woman. "Hi, I'm Gregory Hall. I'm here for the internship group tour."

She smiled sweetly and pulled open a drawer next to her. She dug around a little bit before handing me a nametag with 'my' name on it. "The group is just over there by the statue." I follow her pointing finger to see a mass of maybe seven or eight other teenagers.

"Thank you," I chirp before bouncing over to the group. I smile in greeting at the other teenagers, but since they didn't greet me I didn't make an effort to socialize with them. It would be best if I remained as forgettable as possible, but I also needed time to scope out my way into the lower levels.

Prowl and Jazz were able to pull blueprints and construction history on SI since they were cops. The blueprints showed ten sublevels, but construction history showed twelve. That probably meant that there wasn't any sublevel 11 or 12 buttons in the elevator, but most definitely a stairwell that would lead down that deep. I just needed to swipe an ID card of someone who looked like they had high enough security clearance so I could get passed the doors.

So far, everyone coming in or going out of the building seemed just like the average Joe. My eyes were peeled for any targets even as I fussed with my appearance for show.

Though my search was stopped briefly when a peppy looking twenty-year-old woman came up to the group. "Hello, interns!" she greeted with a grin. "Are you guys ready to see where you're going to be working?" We all nod and call our affirmations. "Alright. Just a few rules while here at Stars Incorporated. Do not disturb those who are already working here while we are on our tour. Here at SI we pride ourselves on a focused but fun work environment. Rule two: Please don't touch anything. We have a lot of delicate and volatile experiments and projects going on. For your safety, please look, but don't touch. And rule three: Don't wander. SI is a massive place and it's easy to get lost. To avoid that just keep me in sight the whole time. If you follow those three rules then you'll get on just fine and see what you're going to be doing as an intern. Any questions?"

I smile and shake my head even as I snort on the inside. I'm definitely going to be breaking those three rules before I even find Starscream. My eyes dart around quickly as our tour guide starts walking, leading us to the elevators, lecturing on how great and awesome SI was. It would be great if I could find a target and ID card before I got on the elevator, but I could work with it if I couldn't find someone.

I was just about to resign myself to waiting and going on the elevator, when the elevator we were waiting to get on opened and a very important man came up, talking loudly on his phone with briefcase in hand and aides and secretaries around him. And he had his ID card on his expensive suit lapel. Too easy.

As the interns parted to make way was Mr. Important, I casually waved my hand as I got out of his way a second too late and plucked the card from his suit and slid it up my sleeve. Mr. Important gave me a dirty look, which I winced and shrunk at, because he had to brush pass lowly me before continuing on without his ID card. Mm, that was a yummy piece of cake.

I slowed my pace and let all of the interns pass me as the tour guide waved them into the elevator. Carefully, praying I wasn't noticed, I detached myself from the group onto another one that was leaving the elevator by the ones the interns were boarding. Trailing behind the group of chattering secretaries, I relaxed a little when no excited and peppy voice called me out.

I lowered my face a little so my mouth was near the mic in my collar. "Got my pass. I'm heading downstairs," I murmured quietly before pulling myself away from that group and heading to the inconspicuous doors by the elevators with a picture of stairs on the sign next to it. As soon as the metal door closed behind me I began to trot down the stairs, looking around for cameras.

For a company selling security they didn't have a lot of security. My hands pulled a pair of fake, thick glasses from my slacks' pockets and I slipped them onto my face and ran my hands through my spiked-up hair, making it lay back in a casually professional manner. Then, after I shrugged off my purposely large trench coat with a hood, I pulled off the sweater vest I was wearing and left it on the ground and pocketed my Gregory Hall ID, pulling out my stolen one and a small picture of me with brown hair, green eyes, and glasses. Peeling the back off the picture, I stuck it over the picture of Mr. Important and clipped it to my shirt.

Jazz and Prowl stressed that it wasn't just my appearance that would make my assumed personae convincing. It was my body language and attitude. I couldn't pass as a 25-year-old working at SI with high security clearance if I had a slumped posture and easy smile; I had to become serious and stony in expression and posture. I wasn't someone sneaking in or an intern who got lost. I was someone who belonged in the secret lower levels of SI.

"I'm at sublevel 10," I report softly. "There's an unmarked door opposite the stair exit." Taking my ID off my shirt, I waved it over the innocuous black box in the wall next to the door. It was a long moment in which I thought I'd grabbed the wrong card before a green light flashed and locks audibly disengaged on the door. "I'm in." I open the door and go down another flight of stairs to sublevel 11. "Entering sublevel 11," I whisper before opening the door and stepping through.

The halls instantly reminded me of a cleaner and updated version of the research facility with the raptors. Looking to the left I could see a single elevator door and three different hallways. And cameras. Don't forget those. I resisted the urge to duck my head and scurry out of sight, but instead turned my head slightly out of view as if I was looking at the directory sign. I needed another disguise if I was going to fit in down here. I doubt the VIP list to this place was very long so it wouldn't take a genius to realize I didn't belong here if they got curious enough. So I needed to either looking like a maintenance worker or a scientist given that this was a research facility.

My eyes trace over the words 'Decontaminant Showers' and the little arrow pointing me in the right direction. If there was any place I could snag clothes it would be in the place where you had to strip. Chin held high but face slightly averted from the cameras watching me, I moved to go to the Decontaminant Showers.

The outer part of me, a mentality I carefully held in place, was slightly nervous and aware of the danger but understood that the best cover was a relaxed one that said I belonged, so he kept up a cool and aloof expression even as we passed a man in a white biohazard suit and air mask. He didn't even look at me twice and that relaxed a bit of my tension.

Now the inner part of me was a bit more of a controlled nervous wreck. It kept muttering about the cameras and how technology these days could do facial recognition and how any security of these secret sublevels would be sharp and aware of me the second I stepped in. I soothed it with the knowledge that if security had been so sharp and aware they would've hunted me down by now and with the statement that no one was expecting an outsider to purposely find their way down into these levels. I was still twitchy and scared nearly out of my wits, but I reigned it in and used my paranoia to notice everything around me.

As I stepped through the door to the Showers, I could hear voices and the sound of water further in. My nose wrinkled faintly at the overwhelming smell of cleaners and chemicals, but I forced myself to focus and looked around for any left out clothes I could switch with and blend in easier. Primus must've been watching over me because there was actually a sort-of dispenser of white biohazard suits and face masks.

Quickly, fearing the joking and talking voices further in the shower stalls would come out soon, I grabbed a biohazard suit and stepped into it, clothes and shoes and all. It made me look a little bulky, but some smoothing down and tight cinching of my trench coat had me looking similar to the man I'd passed in the hall. I grabbed the face mask and pulled it over my head, tightening the straps and making sure it was comfortable before pulling the white stretchy hood of the suit over the straps and my hair. I glanced once more in the mirror and was satisfied when all anyone could see of me was my green eyes and slightly darker tinge under my white suit. Of course, due to the mask, I had to move the mic in my collar and stuck the adhesive side of the mic to my cheek.

"New appearance acquired," I reported softly as I left the showers just in time to hear the water turn off. "Relocation of mic required and result of any changed or degradation of audio feedback. Moving to locate objectives."

But where would they be? The directory sign didn't say anything related to keeping a live prisoner or anything about the Allspark. And I knew I couldn't spend all that much time down here. The longer I stayed the longer I risked blowing my cover. So what would be a good place to start looking? Maybe this 'Main Laboratory'? Or maybe—

"Hey, you lost, buddy?"

It was so hard not to whip around like I was startled and nervous, but I managed it just barely. Turning, my heart sped up when I saw two guys dressed in biohazard suits like me. Shit. No. Don't panic. Go with it. Go with it. "Uh, yeah," I admitted slowly, reaching a hand up to rub the back of my head in sheepishness. "I got turned around at some point."

The guy on the left laughed and I could see his eyes crinkle in laughter. "You must be new. Don't worry about it. This place is a maze. Come on, we're on our way to the presentation anyway. We'll take you there."

Shoot, shoot, shoot. I don't want to go to the presentation, but go with it. Go with it. I smiled and slumped in relief before walking over to them. "Thanks. I thought I was going to be late for sure if I didn't figure out where I was."

"Don't want to be late," the second guy agreed, shaking his head as they began walking. "I heard they're bringing in military guys to take a look at progress. They would _not_ be happy if any of us were late."

I assumed that 'they' were the guys in charge of this place. But the military… I needed to get more information. "Really?" I feign ignorance and shock. "The military? What are they doing here? I thought this place was like a top secret place and project."

"Who do you think funds it?" the second guy, the one with brown eyes, points out easily. "We've got a lot of cool shit in here. Electron microscopes, X-Ray-free Proton lasers. These guys make splitting an atom look like child's play, but the billions of dollars have to come from somewhere."

"What are they hoping to get out of it?" I ask. "The government doesn't just give money to a place like this and not expect something back."

The first guy, with green eyes, shrugged. "The robots. We've been able to funnel the energy from the NBEO more efficiently lately and it's actually coming up with promising results."

"Oh, I heard of that. The Non-Biological Extraterrestrial Object," I repeat more for the sake of those listening in. "They mentioned that briefly when I was brought in, but didn't explain much."

"It's incredible," Mr. Brown Eyes says as we turn a corner. I make sure to memorize the route so I can find the way out on my own. "With this little 3 foot by 3 foot box we can draw this unheard of radiation and animate inanimate objects."

Mr. Green Eyes nods eagerly. "The energy is a bit tricky to coax out, but a few jolts of electricity and it brings to life a pile of metal into a working and functioning robot. That energy and radiation, let me tell you, newbie, is not of this planet. I've spent my entire life dedicated to radiation and their effects and I've never seen anything remotely similar to it."

I whistle, widening my eyes in surprise and giving the impression that I was impressed. "So it really is alien? I wasn't sure if I believed that when I was told, but if what you're saying is true than does that mean there are actual aliens out there?"

Both the men nod. "I heard from Al that we've actually got one down here," Mr. Green Eyes said.

Mr. Brown Eyes looks at his friend in shock. "Really?" I rush to chorus with Mr. Brown Eyes. He continues on. "Al? As in security guard Al?" Mr. Green Eyes nodded.

"Where could they be keeping it?" I ask with feigned-curiosity and excitement. This was what I needed. Thank you, Primus, for giving me this. Both of them look at me. My heart races a bit. "I mean, wouldn't they have someone work on him? Dissect him or whatever?"

"Al says they're keeping him a floor down," Mr. Green Eyes answered. "He didn't say where exactly, but if I had clearance to go down there and knew where he was I certainly would go. Can you imagine that? Seeing an actual alien?" Bingo, bingo, bingo.

"That would be surreal," I admit.

"I know. I'm curious to know what it looks like or if it can communicate or if it's sentient," Mr. Green Eyes starts to go on and I recognize a geek gush when I see one. "What if it looks like we do or knows what the NBEO is? That would be incredible! We could possibly speed up our timetable on production if the alien knew how to operate it. And think about—"

"Sh!" Mr. Brown Eyes hisses. "We're here. Time to get to work."

"Come on, newbie. You were assigned icing-detail, right?" Mr. Blue Eyes whispers, waving at me to follow him as we approach a large and open doorway into an even larger room that resembles a hanger.

I had no idea what icing-detail was but if it got me with these two chatterboxes I would do it. "Yeah," I nod before stuttering to a stop when I entered the room.

My vision narrowed down on a good-sized grey cube sitting on a ten foot tall platform. The Cybertronian glyphs on its surface translated absently in my mind to words like _protect, giver-of-life, Primus, All-Mother_ and more. To me it seemed to glow with life and energy, warm in a welcoming way that said I would be safe with the Allspark…the object that created my spark.

"'Spark'?"

I jolted out of my daze and looked at the two men, realizing that I'd actually whispered, "Allspark." Shit. Cover, cover, cover. "I said 'I guess we should start," I blurted, waving weakly at the other workers in biohazard suits. "I think we're the last ones to show up."

"Right!" Mr. Green Eyes snapped before turning and speed walking over to a nearby wall where these weird backpacks were sitting. They kind of reminded me of Vietnam flame throwers honestly. Watching carefully, I picked up a spare pack and imitated the men in putting the heavy equipment on. "Shit," Mr. Green Eyes cursed and I looked up and followed his gaze up and to what looked like an observation room. A man in a suit was waving three military men with lots of decorations on their shoulders. "Hurry up!" he hissed and I fumbled with the last buckle before snatching up the nozzle-gun and hustling to follow the two men to stand by a pile of metal underneath the Allspark. Now that I looked again at the cube I could see all these wires and sensors trailing off of it and into the ceiling.

We waited patiently and silently and I looked up at the observation room. The man in the suit seemed to be giving a grand spiel on what the military men were seeing down here and what to expect and the efforts being made to make this successful. It was a whole two minutes before Mr. Suit turned to us and his voice suddenly echoed in the room. "Begin the presentation," he ordered curtly.

"You heard him," a worker called over to the three men by long grey consul. "Fire it up!"

"Yes, sir." I watched as they seemed to be pressing a lot of buttons and flipping a lot of switches. "Beginning energy extraction," one worker called and then I heard the hum of electricity from the ceiling.

I looked up at the Allspark just in time to see it jump and glow blue. And my spark could suddenly sense it; sense its emotions.

It was _furiousenragedlividI'mgoingtokillyou._ I gasped and stumbled a bit at the sudden barrage of negative emotions. The Allspark was…alive. It was sentient in a manner of speaking. And it _hated_ what was happening to it. It hated the pain of the electricity that forced it to release energy, but the energy it did release was guided and carved with purpose. The purpose to protect and escape.

I watched in growing dread and anger as a bolt of miniature lightning arced from the Allspark down into the pile of metal. There was a flash of energy that seared my hidden spark in heat before the metal rattled in place. The energy bounced and zipped in the pile of metal, causing it to lift into the air like magic, spinning and coming together in violent snaps and cracks. Vaguely, I noted Mr. Green Eyes and Mr. Blue Eyes bringing up their nozzle-guns and holding them at the ready and it was only a faint thought that had me mimicking them. As the number of loose metal pieces began to dwindle an actual shape began to form. The form of some kind of large cat with no face and razor sharp claws and six foot tall at the shoulder. My skin crawled as I was reminded of the raptors.

The cat got to its clawed feet and looked around sightlessly, shelled ears twitching as it took in the situation. For a moment it looked at me and twitched it's seven-foot long tail, then I sensed the Allspark's emotions change. It became surprised and curious. And then I felt the oddest sensation.

Something was…nudging at my spark. It was like a solid emotion, tangible on the level of my spark. And then there was a voice that spoke, but not in words; in…intentions, feelings, and sensations. The wordless language.

_Steward_, it called. _Take me away from here._

And the urge to just climb up the pedestal and snatch the cube became nearly overpowering under that order. My foot even twitched forward, but I pulled myself back with my entire will power even as my spark responded frantically and naturally. _Can't yet. Will soon. Promise._ I winced when I got a very, _very_ unhappy feeling and the metal cat snarled in response, baring its long and dangerous fangs. All the workers took a wary step back, fingers tightening on the triggers of the nozzle-guns.

Then the cat screamed and lifted a claw to attack.

A cacophony of shouts and yells broke out as streams of white mist came from the nozzle-guns. Painful looking sheets of frost and ice immediately started spreading across the surface of the cat and it yowl and screeched in pain. Ice was frozen water, the weakness of the raptors. And apparently of the cat as well because it was in pain even as it kept trying to attack and _defend the Allspark_.

I could feel its desperation, pounding at my spark and begging me to help, but I could only jump back out of reach. My finger couldn't squeeze down on the trigger though and it made my stomach curdle and contract as I watched the cat eventually collapse, screaming at the humans to leave the Allspark alone.

Thoughts spun rapidly in my head as dots were finally connected and spots were filled in, but, before I could go into further conscious thought of it, Mr. Suit's voice came back over the speakers. "Scrap the failure," he bit out, sounding very unhappy. "And get me Dr. Robinson! I want an explanation for the continued aggressive behavior." Then he was gone.

Mr. Green Eyes nudged me and I nearly gave myself whiplash turning to look at him. His eyes shined with sympathy. "They are scary when they first start attacking, but you'll get used to it. Come on, we need to escort the remains to the incinerator."

"Yeah," I said faintly, shaking myself to get my head back in the game even as the Allspark's grief and sadness at losing a creation swamped my spark. It hurt. Badly. Following the other icing-men as a vehicle came to drag the metal corpse away, I reminded myself that I needed to get to Starscream now. And he was a level down.

My eyes darted around and it took a few minutes before I saw a sign that read 'Lift' with an arrow below it. Okay, at least now I wouldn't have to backtrack to the stairs now. I eyed the hallway that led to the lift and slowed my pace once more like I did with the interns. It wasn't until I was out of sight down the hall that I unbuckled and shrugged off my ice pack before speed walking down the hall to what looked like an old fashioned elevator with the chain link wall that the occupant has to drag across themselves.

"Allspark located," I report as I step into the elevator and look at the buttons and push the arrow going down. "I can't extract it now without causing all sorts of trouble and I have a general location on Starscream. Moving down to sublevel 12." The ride is long and slow, passing through about 60 feet in 40 seconds. I pushed the chain link barrier aside as I reached the lowest floor.

Shivering at the slight chill, I walk forward and wonder how I'm going to locate Starscream in this maze. Maybe I should check the major rooms first like the Main Laboratory on this floor.

"Still no sign of Starscream," I mutter about 20 minutes later as I check the twelfth location. "Moving to…Hold on." I stop and tilt my head. It sounded like…angry screeching. Faint but familiar. "Got a possible lead."

Cautiously, I walk down the hall and struggle to pinpoint the sound of the screeching voice in the echoing halls. My mental map of this place is shaky because of all the wandering and searching I'm doing, but I hope it's enough to get me out.

The voice steadily gets louder and clearer and I realize that it's threats and curses and demands in a barely coherent stream of never ending words. Peering around a corner, I smile and whisper, "Starscream located. Moving to extract." I look at the two guards standing on either side of the glass door to Starscream's glass prison. Ideas spin in my head on how to dispatch the guards, but most of them are useless given that the second I stepped out from the corner I would be seen and there were cameras in the hallway. I'm beginning to get frustrated and antsy when I remember something Mr. Green Eyes said. The idea hits me suddenly and I smile under my mask. That just might work.

Taking a deep breath and getting briefly into character, I step out from behind my corner and speed walk over to the guards, waving when they looked my way. "Do you have clearance to be down here?" one guard sneers, grip tightening on his gun.

"Temporary," I rush to say, making it sound like I'm out of breath. "Listen, we need to get it up to the NBEO ASAP." I jerk a thumb at Starscream, who's watching me with narrowed, tired eyes. "The big guy is pissed."

"Why would they want this freak up there again when it already said that it had no control over the NBEO?" one guard asks suspiciously.

I spread my hands and cross my arms, tapping my foot impatiently. "Do I look like I'm in charge and in the know?" They remain silent and unconvinced. I force a very put-upon sigh out and rub me head. "Look, Dr. Robinson said something about electricity working on both subjects to get results. They need it to test their theory. And we better hurry because big guy is in a tizzy over the presentation. Military guys saw the robot get aggressive and were _not_ impressed." Suspicion faded and bit and the two guards shared a look. Now I just gotta get them moving. "Okay, we need to get moving, guys," I snapped. "I already got lost on my way here and they're probably wondering where the hell we are."

One of the guards groans and rubs his face. "Alright. Fine. Dante, cover me."

My shoulders nearly sag in relief as they believe me. Holy crap that actually worked. Thank god I was paying so close attention to everything being said around me or else they wouldn't have believed me without the insider information.

I watch as the one called Dante opens the door and raises his gun at Starscream, who is glaring death at them as the unnamed guard approaches him with a set of heavy duty and cruel handcuffs. "You bring those demon wings out and we'll fill you with bullets," Mr. Unnamed threatened and he snatched Starscream's clawed hands and slapped the restraints on him.

Starscream snarls but doesn't do anything to physically fight as he's lead out of his cell. "You ignorant, arrogant humans," the blue-skinned Cybertronian spat as I followed behind the two speed-walking guards, who apparently took my words at needing to hurry to heart.

Dante reached over and shoved Starscream with the butt of his gun, sending the Cybertronian stumbling. "Oh, shut up already. You're getting old."

"You _dare_ to insult _me_?" Starscream hisses before going off in a litany of curses that impress even me. I learn a few of them on the walk to the lift.

Mr. Unnamed looked back at me and rolled his eyes. "It never shuts up," he complains.

I chuckle in forced-shared amusement as I step onto the lift so I was between the two guards and Starscream's back was to us. "You have my sympathy," I reply as the lift starts to go up. My eyes look up and wait for the concrete floor to slide in front of the door to block us from the cameras. "I've been here only a few—" I stop midsentence as we disappear from the cameras' sight. My fist lashes out and hits Mr. Unnamed on my right dead in the throat. He goes down, gagging and choking.

"What?" Dante shouts, bringing up his gun. I smack it down and drive a fist into his chin as hard as I can, striking the nerve there. He collapses unconscious and I turn, kicking Mr. Unnamed in the head and sending him into oblivion.

"Guards neutralized," I report, turning to look at my objective. "Star—"

My word is cut off as claws fly towards my face. I step back and crash into the wall behind me, bringing up my arms to defend against an attacking-Starscream. "Autobot," he hisses in his unpleasant voice before rushing me in the small confined space. I step aside and grab his head, smashing it against the wall even as he scrabbles to get a hold of me. I'm sure if he was rested and strong enough to bring his wings out I would never have gotten my hands around his neck, squeezing to warn him and make him freeze.

He does so and I glare at him from under my mask. "I'm your only way out of here, Decepticon," I grind out. "You can either come with me or stay down here and remain a human experiment for the rest of your miserable immortal life. Make your choice."

Anger and fury still glow in those red eyes, but so does calculations. "So the Autobots are the ones who have come to liberate me," he muses quietly. "I'm insulted."

"Choose!" I bark, hearing the lift come closer to sublevel 11 and back into cameras' view.

Blue lips curl in a delicate sneer. "I'm insulted, but I value my freedom. I will go with you."

I nod and quickly haul him to his feet. "Act as if you are sedated. Let me do the talking," I instruct as I nudge the bodies of the guards to the side and out of immediate view of anyone passing.

Starscream chuckles but slumps his shoulders and bows his head, peering at me through his eyelashes. "As you wish, Autobot."

"Starscream acquired," I report softly as the lift stops. With one hand I grab Starscream's cuffs and use the other to open the lift and step out. "Moving to leave the premises."

Starscream hums softly. "Are the other Autobots here?" he asks softly in a tone that says he likes this information. "I did not think any of you would care to even worry about little old me." I don't reply as I turn towards the Allspark chamber, tracing the only route I know back to the stairs. "But I don't think you do care about me," he continues to speak, only loud enough for me to hear even as I strain my ears for the sound of anyone in the vicinity. This was the most dangerous part. If anyone saw me I would be hard pressed to explain why I was escorting the captured alien. "I think the Autobots care about what I might know."

"Shut up," I hiss as we stop behind a corner. I turn and watch a pair of workers walk and disappear out of sight and then move on. "I'm not getting caught."

He merely hums until we pass through the Allspark chamber. It takes my entire will to just glance at the grieving and begging cube and keep moving. "So you know about the Allspark," Starscream hums. I don't reply as my pace speeds up, heart racing as we enter more halls and my mind struggles to remember the route.

We're just passing the Decontaminant Showers when a blaring alarm suddenly goes off. "Shit," I curse, breaking out into a run. "Cybertron," I say into the mic. "Cybertron, Cybertron, Cybertron!"

"I think they know what you are doing," Starscream calls unhelpfully as he keeps pace with me. "Please tell me that you are prepared for this." I don't answer as I pelt around the last corner and make a break for the stairs, pulling the ID card from under my biohazard suit and waving it over the black box. It beeps red and locks immediately engage, sealing the door.

"Shit!" I shout before my eyes go over to the elevator that pings open. I race over there even as I hear booted feet coming down the nearby halls. "Move!" I command, throwing three surprised men out of the elevator and jamming the lobby button. "Come on, come on," I chant, glancing frantically out the doors. My eyes widened as security guards come into view and immediately aim their guns at us. Wordlessly, I drag Starscream to the side and press both of us out of sight as they opened fire. I grit my teeth as the sound echoes loudly in my ears and bullets ricochet in the elevator for a few precious seconds until the doors slide shut and we start moving up.

"This is your idea of an escape plan?" Starscream demands in anger while he watches me strip off the biohazard suit and mask. "You're going to get us killed!"

"We're escaping, aren't we?" I point out with a raised eyebrow as I pin the mic back to my collar.

Just then the elevator stops moving, jolting to a sudden stop with the number above the door saying 'SL8'. Starscream gives me an unimpressed look. "Are we now?" I give him a look of exasperation before putting my foot on the hand railing and reaching up to the ceiling of the small metal box. In every movie I'd ever seen there was always at least some kind of hatch or way to go up.

"Don't fail me now, Hollywood," I mutter as I press my hands to the ring of bright glass in the ceiling. "Yes," I hiss in happiness when it gives and lifts away, giving me a hole to crawl through. Hauling myself up, I reach down and help Starscream, who's already moving to follow me. Carefully, I put the panel back in place and look up at the long way up. 80 feet at least to reach the ground level. And I needed to fly in order to get up there. I call out my wings and look at Starscream, holding out my hand. "We're almost there."

Starscream backs up a step and gives me an affronted look. "You're crazier than me if you think I'm going to let a filthy Autobot carry me."

I roll my eyes and go up to him, ignoring his cutting claws as he tried to fight me. Wrapping my arms securely around him, I leap up and push my wings to their very limit to defy gravity. Starscream screeches and curses as he flails, trying to free his arms pinned to my chest. I haven't even gone two floors up when I catch a sudden flash of leather and something changes my flight course. I yelp as suddenly strong arms shove me away from Starscream, breaking my grip altogether and sending me crashing into the elevator shaft wall.

I glare up to see Starscream yank his hands apart, breaking the manacles restraining him, and flying with a smirk. "Did you really think me so weak, Autobrat?" he sneers.

I curl my lip and brace myself for a jump, wings ready to go now that I didn't have another person's weight dragging me down. "You're coming with me, Starscream."

He laughs, throwing back his head. "Oh, no. Not before I pay these humans back for what they did to me."

My eyes widen in shock before launching myself up when the Decepticon starts to ascend. I tackle him midair and he screeches in indignation. "Not today!" I shout as we begin to fight for control over our flight path and hands darting to grab each other's wings in order to sabotage one another.

"Stupid child!" Starscream curses as I drive an elbow into his cheek only for him to claw at my shoulder when I drag his hand away from my yellow wings. I gritted my teeth against the pain before doing something stupid. I head-butted him. "Gah!" His hands immediately flew to cradle his head and I pushed my instant-headache away to reach under his arms and grab the bony little arms of his wings.

"Move and you lose them," I growled as our speed slowed dramatically with me once again flying for the both of us. He hissed and spat in Cybertronian, which I consciously chose not to translate as I flew the last three floors to the elevator doors that had a helpful 'L' painted on the doors. With a sloppy landing, I released one wing and got a better hold on the barely there ledge. Cautiously, I let my wings molt and shrugged out of my trench coat, hissing when my shoulder flared in pain. Careful to always keep a grip on his wing, I draped the large coat over his shoulders and plopped the hood over his head. "I'm not letting you expose us to the humans any more than you already have," I murmur, fastening the top two buttons one-handed until he growled and smacked me and started doing it himself, molting his own wings.

"Don't you get it, Autodolt?" he hissed as I slipped my fingers into the slit in the elevator doors. "I didn't turn myself in to these humans. They found me. They hunted me down."

I snorted as I start to pry open the doors. "You seriously expect me to believe that a bunch of humans caught _you_. The fastest flier in all of the Decepticons?" I cursed when my grip slipped and moved to try again while looking around to see if an elevator was coming only to realize that all elevators must've been stopped for our escape.

"They were waiting for me!" he defended himself before putting both his hands in the slit next to mine and pulling. I got the hint and switched all of my strength to the other one. "They had weapons that pulsed with the power of the Allspark. These filthy humans have defiled the great relic of Cybertron by turning its power into that of violence! They will pay!"

Chasing the Flame

So SI isn't a group of scientists that just got lucky with Starscream or the Allspark. Nope. There's a lot more going on here then even I know at the moment…Wait. Maybe I do know. The sequel's coming together, but the details are floating around still.

Sorry if things were a little too easy and fake for you guys. Maybe someday I'll come back and fix it. Otherwise, I'm leaving you guys with a sort of cliffhanger. SI has a lot of shit going on with them and it will continue on into the sequel. The rat bastards.

Anyway, enough with the hints and foreshadowing and cliffhangers. Remember to check out Sleepy on DA and leave a review!


	20. Chapter 20

Alright. I'm just going to let you guys know now that all the chpaters after this (four, think?) are going to be much shorter than all the other chapters before this. They're going to be around 2,000 words. I'm doing this because I wanna draw this out nice and slow. We are in the final stage now, guys. This is the beginning of the end! Hold your pants!

And I have more picture referenced in this chapter. Check out my profile to see them!

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp on DeviantArt

Plot and OCs © me

Chasing the Flame

"_Don't you get it, Autodolt?" he hissed as I slipped my fingers into the slit in the elevator doors. "I didn't turn myself in to these humans. They found me. They hunted me down."_

_I snorted as I start to pry open the doors. "You seriously expect me to believe that a bunch of humans caught you. The fastest flier in all of the Decepticons?" I cursed when my grip slipped and moved to try again while looking around to see if an elevator was coming only to realize that all elevators must've been stopped for our escape._

"_They were waiting for me!" he defended himself before putting both his hands in the slit next to mine and pulling. I got the hint and switched all of my strength to the other one. "They had weapons that pulsed with the power of the Allspark. These filthy humans have defiled the great relic of Cybertron by turning its power into that of violence! They will pay!"_

Before I could respond, our small progress in opening the doors was suddenly sped up as some sort of mechanism in the doors was triggered, probably put there in case people got stuck in the elevators. I blinked as I stared at the mess that was the lobby. It looked like an explosion had gone off in the bathroom and there was a fire and smoke and people running for the doors. Nobody seemed injured or looking at us, so I grabbed the sleeve of the trench coat and jogged for the door, dragging a growling Starscream behind me.

"Exiting the building," I report into my mic just as I push through the glass doors and into open sunlight. It had never looked so warm and welcoming and no matter how I just wanted to sit down and rest I went left and pushed my way through the fleeing crowd. Cops and firefighters were just starting to pull up when Sebastian's custom Hummer pulled up to the curb next to me. The back doors opened and a very unhappy looking Gabe leaned out, waving me forward even as he glared at Starscream. Wordlessly, I hopped in and pulled Starscream with the help of Ironhide when he started digging in his heels.

Starscream peered out from under the hood of the coat and saw all of the Autobots present in the vehicle. He sent an astonished look towards me where I sat next to a crouched Gabriel. "You were sent in there alone?" he demanded. "And I doubt any of you could've come up with a decent amount of information in the small amount of time I was captive." Red eyes darted over to Optimus where he was looking over from the passenger seat. "Did you send this child in alone and with so little information against a number of armed and dangerous humans?" He raised an eyebrow when all he got was stony silence and slowly darkening looks. "I'm impressed with the child. He had even me fooled for a moment. But sending him alone is something very…Decepticon." His look turned smug and taunting. "I didn't think you had it in you, Prime. Especially one so young and—"

Starscream cried out in pain and shock when I suddenly leaned forward and punched him in the face. "Shut up already," I groaned as I sat back next to Ironhide, closing my eyes as Jazz and Gabe started cracking up.

We traveled in silence for a while until Ratchet suddenly braked hard. I would've fallen over if it weren't for Gabe, but he was gone as soon as I was stable, opening the back doors and shoving Starscream out. Then Ratchet was peeling away, leaving the traitorous and screeching 'Con behind.

"Are you hurt, Bee?" Seb called, eyes looking in the rearview mirror in concern.

"Just some scratches courtesy of Starscream," I reply. "They can wait until we get back to base."

Ironhide clapped me on the back, grinning. "I knew I taught you right," he said proudly, obviously referring to my punch.

I smile back wanly before sighing and looking towards the font of the car. "We've got a problem, guys. A few of them actually."

"Starscream knows where the Allspark is located," Prowl guessed, looking back at me for confirmation.

I nod. "Yeah. And he is supremely pissed about the humans having it. And he's probably going to tell Megatron."

"Without a doubt," Eric murmurs, reaching over the seat to run a hand over my hair. I lean into the touch. "And if I know Megatron, he will be going after the Allspark as soon as possible. Tonight."

"And we have to get there before him," Jazz mumbled. "We won't be able to get in and out without getting noticed with so little preparation."

"Security will be tighter than ever," Ironhide added grimly. "If they don't move the Allspark altogether now that the location has been compromised."

"There's a 23% chance that they won't move it until tomorrow morning," Prowl supplied.

My lips tighten at the thought of losing the sentient being once again. "This will be our only chance to get it." I roll my eyes as I get several reproachful eyes. "I know I'm not ready. I know I'm not fully trained, but Megatron is going to be pulling out all the stops. You're going to need every single advantage you have. It would be stupid to leave me at home."

Eric purses his lips. "I'll think about it," he compromises. "We have until 8 o'clock tonight when the sunsets. We'll prepare until then. Ironhide, I want you to pack as many weapons as you can that won't hinder us too much. Prowl, Jazz, I want you working on a possible entry route and escape plan. Get as paranoid as possible. We need to be as ready as we possibly can. Ratchet, you and I will be placing escape vehicles around SI and then help however we can."

"And me?" I ask, feeling a bit anxious. "I can help Jazz and Prowl. I know where the Allspark was being held."

A warm hand reaches and rests on my uninjured shoulder. "For now, I want you to rest. You'll need your energy for tonight." I sag in relief at the near confirmation that I was going to be taking part of the snatch-and-grab. Optimus squeezes my shoulder. "We will go after the Allspark as soon as night is here."

"That's another thing I need to tell all of you." I look up as Ratchet pulls into our driveway. I hold my tongue until I'm sat down on the couch and divested of my nice shirt so Ratchet can heal the cuts. "I saw the Allspark. I was no more than 15 feet from it," I tell them, looking at their tense body languages as all of them refused to sit down—except for Jazz, who purposely flopped down in a relaxed manner. "It's…" I sigh and scratch my cheek. "It's aware of what's happening to it. And it's not happy."

"Are you saying it's sentient?" Prowl asked, frowning deeply.

I waved my hand in a so-so gesture. "I could feel its emotions and it didn't talk in words but with…feelings? I guess that's what you could say."

Ratchet looked up at me in shock as he molted his wings and gi, finished with my shoulder. "It _spoke_ to you?"

"Sort of. Like I said, it doesn't use words and it spoke through my spark. I nearly broke cover because it asked me to take it away from there. The humans have had the Allspark for a long time and it is _sick_ of being used and hurt. It's…furious and hating what's happening to it. So much so that it's been trying to kill the humans that are experimenting on it." I sit forward and rest my elbows on my knees, hands pressed together and to my lips. "Those raptor creatures down in the old research facility? Those weren't experiments gone wrong. The Allspark made them that way. It made them to protect it and stop the humans from using it. It almost worked."

"And how do you know this?" Eric asked softly.

I didn't look up as I remember the emotions of the cat and Allspark, still fresh on my mind and spark. "I was there during an experiment. I watched as they shocked the Allspark into giving energy to a pile of metal; only the Allspark gave the energy a purpose to fight any and all humans. When it tried the others froze it. The water killed it while it was trying to protect its creator." I sighed and shook my head. "I've never felt grief and sadness like what was coming off the Allspark when its creation died." Ratchet put a hand on my shoulder in support and I smile a bit. "But that's not the worst of it."

Gabriel and Jazz groaned. "Why is there always worse?" the large man demanded hotly, glaring at nothing in particular. Maybe he was glaring at the universe. The universe was a bitch like that.

"We never wondered how Starscream was caught," I start. "He said that there was a group of humans waiting for him and they hunted him down, using weapons that felt like the Allspark to bring him down."

"And we're just going to take his word for that?" Ironhide snorted and shifted his weight. "For all we know Megatron turned him over to the humans, tired of his betraying ass."

"But Megatron and the Decepticons have continuously shown a dislike for being around humans," Prowl points out. "Why would he suddenly change that behavior and give his SIC, traitorous or no, to the species he has wanted to avoid contact with this entire time?"

"I don't know, Prowl! You're the smart one. You tell us."

"What I think we should all take from this," Ratchet started, raising his voice so he could distract the two irritated men. "Is that there is possibly a group of humans out there with technology to hurt us and restrain us."

"And that the government is involved," I added unhelpfully.

Jazz nodded. "We heard you say as much over the mic. I called a few old 'friends' while you were in there. They're digging up information as we speak."

Eric sighs and scrubs his face, suddenly looking weary. "As bad as all this news is, we now know where the Allspark is and that it is within reach. We have our roles to play and only a little amount of time. Use it wisely."

Hearing the dismissal Ironhide, Seb, and Prowl all left the room. Jazz stood up from where he was laying and came over to me, a proud smile and feeling coming my way as he patted me on the back. "You did good, Bee," he complimented. "I don't think I could've done it any better."

I rolled my eyes. "You would've done it with more style."

The Jamaican laughed. "Got that right. I'll see you later. Come find Prowler and I when you can. We'd love to pick your mind for floor schematics."

"You got it." I watch as the small man leaves before getting up and walking over to where Eric is standing with a distant look in his eye. "Hey," I call softly, putting my hands on his cheeks and getting him to focus on me. "Everything's going to be okay," I assure him. "We've got the jump on this. Megatron won't be able to scout and plan like we can in daylight. He'll be going in blind."

He nods at the logic and pulls me into a hug, resting his cheek on top of my head. "You were incredible today," he praises and I flush happily. "It was amazing to hear you work and have so little experience in that field."

"What can I say?" I reply with a saucy grin. "I'm a quick learner."

He chuckles before sighing and going serious again. "Just…promise me you won't get hurt tonight."

He and I both know that I couldn't make such a promise and actually keep it, but I can see an attempt to soothe worries when I see one. "I promise." I mentally cross my fingers. "Just you watch. We'll walk out of there with the Allspark and everyone unscathed. It'll be like a cheesy action film."

Optimus laughs again and kisses my head. "I know."

He's lying.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask Jazz quietly as we watch the delivery truck guys move in and out of the loading bay.

Jazz doesn't twitch, eyes glued to the place he'd soon be ghosting in to. "I'm the only one who can." I sigh when I'm reminded of our Special Operations conversation. That life did suck.

"Call me if you need me?" I roll my eyes at the droll look I got. "Yeah, I know you're that good. But you know what I mean."

A slight smile touches his lips as we standing in the dark parking garage with a view of our entry point. "I do."

My eyes flick up at the darkening night sky and reviewed the plan Jazz, Prowl, and I had hammered out after I'd taken a shower and a powernap. It was fairly simple, but it was the room for mistakes that had me worried. Security would be up in the lower levels. We'd most certainly be seen the second we walked in and then we'd have to get through the humans down there. Then we'd get the Allspark and get back out and run into the Decepticons at some point. And if we did manage to get a hold of the cube we'd be wading through humans the entire way out of the building and probably the human authorities once we got out.

It was a suicide mission. But what choice did we have when Megatron, who had no qualms about taking lives to get what he wants, knew where the Allspark was as well? What choice did we have when the humans were going to move it the next day?

My eyes flicked down from the sky when the streetlights came on. Night was officially here. I turned to look at Jazz only to realize he was gone already, moving like the assassin he was to incapacitate the innocent humans blocking our way in.

I took a deep breath despite the constriction I felt in my chest. Someone was going to get hurt tonight. The odds were too stacked against us for there to be any better of an outcome, and I refused to think about worse possibilities. My hands tightened into fists, nails digging into my palm. No. I wouldn't let that happen. My stomach twisted in on itself and I was glad that I'd only eaten a protein bar. Anything else and I'm sure that I would've puked it up from nerves already.

I fussed over my appearance once more, tugging the large black hood down my forehead and making sure my headset was firmly in my ear, checking the volume as well. I had washed the brown dye out of my hair and the skin dye off of my skin when I showered and my eyes were back to their light blue.

My own inexperience weighed down on me, nearly crushing me with the reality. Any fight I'd gotten into had been luck and chance that allowed me to win. Barricade hadn't known my fighting style, peons didn't count, and Starscream had been weak despite his attempts to hide it. I knew I was well overdue for my first bitter taste of defeat, but I was determined to make sure that tonight wasn't the night I'd wet my tongue on it. My defeat would weaken and distract the others. I couldn't allow that to happen. They were already taking a calculated risk in bringing me and I could either benefit them or drag them down.

That was a fate that sat heavily on my shoulders.

"All clear," Jazz called over the comm line, his voice monotone and missing his cheer and joking. But, then again, so was I and everyone else. We all knew what was coming and the risks we were taking.

"Autobots, move in," Optimus ordered.

I strolled across the street, hands in my pockets and hood up, very aware of the outer SI cameras and street cameras. It wouldn't do to give ourselves away so soon.

Gabriel was helping his lover up the four foot ledge of the loading bay when I approached. My hand easily slipped into his when he presented it and effortlessly lifted me up. As I held his hazel eyes with mine for a moment, the alien gun holstered at my lower back gained weight. He'd given it to me before we left, telling me to at least aim in the enemy's direction before I shoot.

"You ready?" he asks in his normal deep tone as he leaned down and shouldered two hockey bags filled with weapons.

"No."

"Don't worry, kid. No one ever is."

Eric's voice came over the line. "Move in." I looked across the large concrete room filled high with boxes and forklifts to see the outline of my boyfriend waiting with the other three.

Ironhide and I quickly go over to them and Prowl takes point, going about ten feet in front of us so he could warn us of any dangers, and we follow him silently through the dark maze of hallways. The stoic police officer had also used his eidetic memory to memorize the first floor schematics so he could lead us to the elevators we planned on jumping down to the lower levels through. The reason we entered through the loading bay was because the route between the loading bay and elevators had the least amount of doors requiring an ID to get through.

We reached the lobby without getting waylaid and watched as Jazz silently knocked out the security guard sitting at the reception desk. Only then did we move to the bank of four elevators. Eric and Prowl forced open one door and leaned down to peer through the darkness. "Let's go," he whispers, calling out his wings of fire and brightly illuminating the room before he jumped, slowly flying down. Prowl followed next, bringing out his metal wings and muted glow before leaping forward and falling some distance and catching the wall. He turned and jumped down once more, catching the opposite wall once more. This fall-and-catch method was the only way we could effectively think to get down 120 feet of endless space. Sebastian went next, followed by Gabe with his bags of weapons, which were surprisingly quiet, and then by Jazz with me bringing up the rear with my bright glow.

The descent was quiet except for the slap of palms on metal, the occasional grunt, and the hum as a single elevator moved during this leg of our mission. All of the non-flying Autobots gathered at the very bottom of the elevator shaft, waiting for everyone to catch up. Ironhide then put his bags down and opened them. He handed Jazz a pair of twisting silver glowing pistols that hummed and sang faintly. Ratchet was handed an odd-looking rifle that he handled with dislike but competence. Eric got this huge shotgun type gun and I already had mine strapped to my back on plain display now that I was in my revealing clothes, but I drew it nonetheless, careful not to point it at anyone as I hovered in midair. Ironhide shouldered the packs once more and reached out, his familiar massive pistols materializing in his hands. With a nod to Eric and I, we pried open the doors and slipped through as soon as there was room, sweeping the room with our guns as the others made the small jump—for us anyway— out of the elevator shaft and into sublevel 11.

The place was empty and eerily quiet, reminding me even more of the old research facility. I lowered my gun as I looked up at the cameras, which were being scrambled since Jazz had this nifty device clipped to his waist that screwed with any camera within range. "No security," I murmured, looking back uncertainly at the others. "Did they already leave with the Allspark?"

"No." Jazz shook his head, tiny braids flying and clicking together. "They know we're here."

"They've set a trap," Ironhide grumbled as he dug through the bags still on his shoulders. "Well, let's throw a wrench into their plans."

Ratchet sighed and smiled ruefully as he was handed a small black and red device. "I do love throwing wrenches," he said before he pressed a button. I winced as static blared in my headset for a moment before going silent. All the lights died and plunged us into darkness. EMP. Cybertronian style.

I sighed as I reached up for the sunglasses perched on my head and placed them on my nose. This had been part of the plan and we'd been given this really cool Cybertronian tech that looked like the funky futuristic sunglasses Jazz had on when he had his wings out. They could cycle through several filters; night, thermal, infrared, sound, light, and air waves. Very cool. I blinked as I flicked them on and looked around, seeing my family as if I were wearing sunglasses on a sunny day instead of the green human night vision goggles managed to show.

"Everyone good?" Jazz asked with a small smile. We all nodded and Jazz waved a hand at me. "Lead the way, scout." I give him a strained smile before dimming my yellow glow until it was nonexistent and then turning to walk that path that had originally taken me to the Allspark. It was possible that the humans may have moved it to some other location in the base, but it they had laid a trap like we were certain they had then they would need bait for the trap.

It was eerie walking through hallways that so reminded me of my nightmare, but my tension and focus on anything human or Decepticon overwhelmed my visions of metallic raptors coming out of the shadows. As we got closer to the Allspark's experimentation room, I slowed my pace and held my hand out, signaling the men behind me to stop. Small sounds tickled my ears. A wheeze. A shift in clothing. A muttered curse. Carefully, I poked my head around the corner before ducking back. Looking back at my waiting team I nod. The Allspark was there. Then, drawing on my few-hours-old crash course in Autobot sign language, I tell them that humans were in the room and armed.

Gabe came forward, slowly setting his bag on the ground. We knew that the humans would be armed with guns. Luckily, Cybertronians were advanced enough in war to make humans look like they were fighting with sticks. We'd brought tools just for dealing with that problem. Ironhide drew out two rods as long as his forearm. I watched as he gave them a little flick and they snapped out, becoming very large metal Frisbees that hummed with faint energy. He slowly stood up, readjusting his grip on the metal disks. Looking back at Prime, he got the go-ahead and stepped forward.

With the enhanced speed of his activated Cybertronian form, Ironhide threw the disks. As they spun, bright waves of red energy came off of its spinning edges. The jumpy humans immediately opened fire, but the second the red energy touched their guns and explosives they went silent, leaving only humans cursing and crying out in frustration that their guns were jammed and weren't working.

Threat neutralized, Eric walked forward and lead us as we walked the last of the distance to the room.

"They're here!" a human soldier shouted, telling us that they were equipped with night vision. "Shoot them!"

"You can't," Ironhide rumbled. "Your inferior weapons are nothing but scrap now."

Roughly fifty humans watched as we entered the room, moving out of the way as we stepped over and around the short sandbag walls they had constructed for cover. I had to wonder how we looked to them as I fluttered my wings in agitation at being surrounded by people who meant to hurt us. One soldier tried to be a hero and jumped up with a yell, serrated blade in hand, leaping for Ratchet. But the medic easily grabbed the wrist and bent it backwards, bringing the man to his knees without really doing any damage. The blond man curled his lip and shoved the soldier away before continuing in our diamond formation towards the ten foot tall pedestal with the Allspark on it.

Prime looks at one human who stands alone in our way. "We don't want to hurt you," he says kindly but with steel in his voice.

"We have our orders," the soldier replied and I could see the man shaking slightly as Eric flared his wings brighter, soft blue light filling the room.

"No one will blame you for not having the means to carry out your orders. Please. Stand aside." When he doesn't, Prime waves a hand and Ironhide brings up his pistols, aiming at the human. He pales and chokes on a breath, backing away so fast he stumbles and falls. "Thank you," Prime nods before lifting off the ground and going for the Allspark.

That's, of course, when everything goes wrong.

I sense the spark a second too late. A huge blast of purple flies through the air straight at Optimus. Hitting him. My eyes go wide in horror as Optimus cries in pain as his left wing curls painfully, turning black and withering down to tiny flames along his spine and sending him back to the floor.

I spin, leveling my gun in the direction of the shot, and glaring at the Decepticons. Megatron looks smug as he lowers the big ass gun attached to his arm. Starscream and Barricade flank him with Rumble and Frenzy flanking them. "Prime," the blue Decepticon leader drawled out in that awful gravelly voice of his. "Did you really think it would be that simple? That after so long I would let my greatest prize be stolen by a handful of Autobots not even 50 years old?"

Ironhide growls. "Finally. A chance to kill you."

I turn and look down at the soldier cowering behind a nearby wall. Nodding my head in the direction of the hall leading to the lift, I whisper, "Go." He stares at me for a moment before nodding and pushing his friend, pointing at the door.

I turn my attention back to the Decepticons waiting just in front of the door. It was five against six. We had the advantage of numbers, but they had the advantage of experience given that I wasn't even halfway trained. In my opinion, that put them in the lead a little bit.

I readjusted my grip on my gun and looked over my shoulder to see Ratchet healing Prime, who was struggling to his feet despite the agony I knew he had to be feeling at having one wing blasted away. We were down two people. The Decepticons' lead grew. Damn.

"Bee," Prowl called, backing up towards Ratchet and Prime. "With me." I obeyed by carefully backing up.

Starscream bared his teeth at us. "Just save yourselves some pain, you pathetic excuses for Cybertronians. Give us the Allspark."

Jazz tsked and his guns grew in sound. "You know that ain't happening, Screamer." He leveled his two pistols with the SIC. "Rather die."

"That can be arranged," Frenzy sneered.

"Indeed," Megatron rumbled before his face tightened. "Decepticons, get the Allspark!"

"Autobots!" Optimus bellowed as he pumped his shotgun. We understood the unspoken order. Defend the Allspark with our lives.

The battle started with Prime firing at Megatron, who conveniently raised his forearm and called up a force field from a thin black device attached to his limb. I watched as Jazz and Barricade collided in silence and shadows and how Prowl dropped to a knee and immediately began firing his rifle as Starscream took to the air. Ironhide fired and charged at Megatron as he and Prime clashed with force and brutality that had me wincing. As I watch my boyfriend and his archenemy fight with Ironhide pitching in to cover for his pained leader's disadvantage, I can see red streaks glowing in the Optimus' hair and flame markings on his arms appear out of nowhere as the flames in his hands switch to a brilliant red.

Ratchet grabbed my arm and pulled me to stand beside him. I tensed as I saw the red and purple twins streaking towards us, matching grins of cruelty and excitement. Red and purple lightning streaked from their backs respectively, acting as their wings. Fear and nervousness flashed through me as I raised my gun and fired at the two. They ducked and rolled, closing the distance rapidly. Panicking, I dropped my gun and reached for my knives. I barely had them in my hands as Frenzy reached me.

He threw a punch and I sidestepped, lashing out with a knee. When he caught it in his hands my knives struck. It was only a little scratch on the cheek due to the fact that Frenzy leaned back, but it was a small boost in confidence and determination that focused me. All of my five senses were focused on Frenzy as my wings fanned and rattled, taking in the general readings of the fights going on behind me.

This was now a race to see who could cripple the other side of their first warrior because who ever lost a vital player would be at an immediate disadvantage and that much closer to losing the Allspark. And, as the weakest of everyone here, I was the most likely to go down first. But I wouldn't let that happen.

I spun in a roundhouse kick, a cry leaving my throat as I forced Frenzy to retreat a little. As I went to follow and press my advantage, Frenzy smirked and reached out and knuckle dusters that wrapped around his hands and arms came into existence on his slight body as he adopted a boxing position. My eyes narrowed, wondering what those warped and thin pieces of metal could do, before I kicked out.

Frenzy dodged and darted forward, fist flying towards my face at an alarming speed. I just barely managed to turn my head so that it just brushed past my chin. Seeing his chest left open, I darted my knife forward with the intent of stabbing him in the heart—something I'm sure I could be horrified over later when my family was safe and the Allspark with us—when the Decepticon's arms came up and wrapped around my arm, trapping it in a vice.

"Gotcha," the Decepticon crowed loudly over the sounds of fighting and began to apply pressure. I grunted as I quickly realized he intended to break my arm before jabbing my free knife at his face. Like last time he leaned back. I was counting on it. One of my feet came up and I wrapped it around his legs, pulling them out from under him. Frenzy went with a cry of surprise, allowing me to yank my arm free. I was about to curb stomp him when his legs lashed out, hitting my knee.

I bit my lip against the pain as that leg collapsed. Frenzy jumped up and tried to tackle me, but all my experience in judo allowed me to just barely keep my feet under. With Frenzy's shoulder in my lower ribs and arms wrapped around my back, I felt him bring a fist away and punch me. A shout of pain left me as a devastating force slammed into me. That was stronger than anything even Gabriel could throw! It finally clicked in my head what those knuckle dusters were for when he reared back his arm once more.

Reacting out of the pain and the desire to avoid more of it, I drove my two knives into the vulnerable back. Frenzy shrieked in pain even as my brain stalled for a minute on what I had just done. Then I was flying. I crashed into a sandbag wall, making my body bend in awful ways and my poor back and knee crack painfully. As quickly as I could I rolled to my feet and stumbled into a defensive position and watched as Frenzy stood up straight and I could see where the tips of my knives were peeking through his stomach just above his hips. Though it wasn't pain or fear on his face.

I watched in horrified fascination as Frenzy, face contorted in rage, reached back and drew my blades from his own body. He threw them aside and they dissolved into golden dust midair. "I'm going to kill you," he hisses, lightning wings crackling louder and brighter. "We are going to kill you."

"Bumblebee!"

I whip around at Ratchet's cry just in time to see Rumble's enraged face. An impossibly strong force slams into my chest, slamming me into the ground and I can feel my bones cracking and snapping. I gasp in agony as Rumble stands over me, fist flexed. "No one hurts my bro," he snarls before moving to slam his fist down on me again.

Pushing the pain away with adrenalin's help, I kick both my legs up and twine them with Rumble's before rolling over, forcing the purple twin's legs to roll with me. He goes down with a curse and a painful sounding slam. I quickly scramble to my feet, chest uncomfortable, and materialize my knives once more. Ratchet is at my side and using a force field to slam down on Rumble, keeping him there, but it's obvious by Rumble's thrashing and the shaking of the shield that it won't last for long.

I spin, looking and waiting for Frenzy to strike, but nothing comes. I'm just beginning to frown when Ratchet lets out a choked scream. Heart pounding, I turn and Ratchet dropping down, wings crumpled and ripped. My spark spasms painfully at the sight of utter agony as he is slammed into the unconscious world.

"Ratchet!" I shout even as I move forward to strike at a pleased and malicious looking Frenzy holding part of Ratchet's wings. Rumble suddenly appears in front of me and I roar in anger, putting everything I have into a combination of lashes and kicks and elbows. The purple twin actually seems to be failing under my barrage of attacks and I feel a sick sense of satisfaction until Frenzy is at his side. And I get my first lesson in twin fighting. They move like they are one body, one being. It hardly leaves any openings for me to strike and makes me work double time on my already shoddy defense.

My shoulder gets hit with one of those knuckle dusters and I stumble back from the force of it. But I'm right back in the fight as my mind frantically takes in everything about the two. They trade off offensive and defensive so quickly that I can't measure either of their fighting styles, but I'm beginning to understand that Frenzy is slower to respond and move. Maybe due to my stabs earlier.

If I could take him out of the battle for good it would even the odds between us dramatically, both between the twins and I and between the Autobots and Decepticons. I bide my time, watching for even the slightest hint of an opportunity and even missing a few in my desire to dodge and not get hit again. But after the sixth passing chance I growl and change my mindset.

The next time I see an opening I go for it. Frenzy gasps and stumbles back when one of my knives cuts deeply across his stomach, his hands immediately going down to try and keep his insides inside. I don't have a single moment to enjoy my victory before Rumble's linked fists brutally slam down right between my wings. A cry of pain is wrenched from my throat as I crash into the ground on my chest, ribs splitting even more and making it hard to breathe.

Rumble catches his twin as he stumbles back, shouting his name in worry as the red twin's eyes roll into the back of his head.

An explosive snarl comes from somewhere behind me and I'm on my hands and knees, forcing myself up again despite how much I wanted to curl up and be still, when I look over. Megatron's ice blue face looks almost red as he looks over in Frenzy's direction. "If one of mine goes down, Prime!" he roars, knocking aside Gabriel, who stumbles back looking a little worse for wear. "Then so will one of yours." He levels the massive gun on his arm directly at Gabe's chest and fires point blank.

Gabriel shouts inarticulately as he is sent flying from the powerful blast. He crashes into the ground even as I yell his name. I gain my feet and watch as he tries to get up, but his body physically can't since there is blood soaking his entire chest. Blood spurts from his mouth as he collapses back.

I start to tremble. Both my older brothers are down and my eyes swing over to Megatron when he does something that catches my eye.

The blue Cybertronian looks around the room with disgust. Frenzy is down, Starscream can't do anything with Prowl so focused on him, Barricade was totally occupied with Jazz, and Ratchet was clumsily stumbling to his feet, moving over to his spark mate. The only available Decepticon fighters are Rumble and Megatron. If I could at least keep Rumble occupied if he chose to leave Frenzy and Ratchet could get Ironhide back on his feet then…

We…we could actually win this.

Megatron saw all this as well and a look of utter rage crossed his face as he turned to Optimus, whose arms were completely on fire with his fury at what was just done to his best friend. "You won't have the Allspark," he hisses. Then he lifts that arm with the gun attached. He aims at the Allspark.

He shoots the Allspark.

Eric stumbles forward, "Don't!" But the room is enveloped in a brilliant white light as the purple plasma bolt hits the cube. There's no explosion or anything I can hear. It's almost as if all the sound was sucked out of the room as the Allspark was destroyed.

When the light clears and I'm able to open my eyes, I stare up at the destroyed pedestal in incomprehension. Megatron had just…_killed_ the Allspark?...Why? My spark, created for the very purpose of protecting the Allspark, shrieks and writhes in the pain of failure. It was gone. We'd lost the one thing we were supposed to protect.

Something in my chest makes me wrench my gaze from my failure. It makes me turn and notice that Megatron is moving again. He reaches out as he turns to Eric, who is staring at the blown apart pedestal in horror, grabbing his giant silver sword from thin air. My spark quails in my chest as I start to run forward. "Look out!" I scream and I see Eric turning, eyes blown wide as he sees the coming threat.

But he's out of time to move.

My whole world stops when the sickening sound of metal slicing flesh explodes like a bomb in my ears. I can only stare at sight before me, refusing to believe my eyes. But when Eric gives a heart-breaking, strangled whimper I know that it's real.

Megatron's sword was impaled through Optimus' chest.

Chasing the Flame

Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.

I'm the one who frickin' wrote this and I'M panicking! How does that work?!

Aw, shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. I'm horrible, but I'll see you guys Friday!

Check out the pictures by sleepyoldvamp on DA and leave a review to tell me how awful I am!


	21. Chapter 21

HERE IT IS HERE IT IS HERE IT IS GO GO GO GO GO GO!

Transformers © Hasbro

Chasing the Flame AU © sleepyoldvamp at DeviantArt

Plot and OCs © me

Chasing the Flame

Something in my chest makes me wrench my gaze from my failure. It makes me turn and notice that Megatron is moving again. He reaches out as he turns to Eric, who is staring at the blown apart pedestal in horror, grabbing his giant silver sword from thin air. My spark quails in my chest as I start to run forward. "Look out!" I scream and I see Eric turning, eyes blown wide as he sees the coming threat.

But he's out of time to move.

My whole world stops when the sickening sound of metal slicing flesh explodes like a bomb in my ears. I can only stare at sight before me, refusing to believe my eyes. But when Eric gives a heart-breaking, strangled whimper I know that it's real.

Megatron's sword was impaled through Optimus' chest.

It's utterly still and silent in the room and I can see in painful detail when Megatron smirked. "Heh." Then Megatron lifted a foot and slowly slid Eric off his blade, savoring every moment as Prime coughed and glared weakly, feebly scrabbling to keep the blade in his body in a vain attempt to avoid dying from blood loss.

I feel like I've been punched in the chest as I watch Prime fall to the ground like a broken doll. The next moment I find myself on my knees with my entire body numb of all feeling as I watch Eric's hands—the sweet hands that _heldcaressedplayedflamed_—scratched and dragged at the floor. The sounds of choked breathing and gurgling blood make my head spin.

This was a nightmare, right? I was still at home napping on the couch, right? Before we ever came back to this damned place? No one was scared. No one was hurt. No one was dying. Right? Right?! _RIGHT?!_

"The mighty Autobot leader has fallen," Megatron says in the silence of the room, no inflection in his tone whatsoever. "How pathetic." My world shakes as he starts _laughing_. The sound grates against my very spark and makes me want to claw out my ears, but I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't do anything but stare at where the man I loved lay in a heap, twitching and silent.

Get up. Eric, stop playing. Get up and kill him…Why are you still lying there? Now isn't the time to be playing possum! Get your lazy ass up and finish this! Get up! Please! You have to get up. Please listen to me! _Please. GET UP NOW!_

My world throbs when I feel the warm flame that is Eric's spark suddenly disappear. I can't sense him anymore. No. Nononononono. My vision blurs as the glow and flames of _EricboyfriendloverbelovedgetupgetupGETUP_ fade into darkness. Where is he? I can't find him. He has to be there. He's always been there. HOWCANHENOTBETHERE?!

Megatron turns to the rest of the room. "Kill them."

A rough hand grabs the back of my neck and drags me to my feet. Vaguely, I hear Jazz screaming and cursing and Prowl's rifle shots abruptly end as someone hisses in my ear, "You're going to pay for what you did to Zee."

Come on, Optimus. Move. Twitch. Breathe. Give me some sign…anything.

When the hand on the back of my neck throws me down on my back, my line of sight on Eric is broken. I stare up at the dark purple form looming over me.

This is a nightmare…right?

…No…

Something in me shatters. Fury, hotter than anything I've even felt, sears painfully through my spark. Grief, sharper than my blades, slices the physical manifestation of who I am into a million pieces. Desperation, heavier than the entire universe, grinds those fragments of my spark into dust.

Eric. I wouldn't let him die in vain. I wouldn't let him die for nothing.

Megatron.

Would.

**Pay.**

An unholy scream leaves my throat as I launch myself upwards, grabbing a startled Rumble by the throat. Turning, I _throw_ him clear across the room to smash into where Barricade had Jazz pinned. The room brightens so much and I tear the glasses from my face, fixing my promise of death upon Megatron even as markings similar to the shape of my wings appear on my arms and chest and begin to glow and peel away from my skin, spinning and whirling through the air.

The Decepticon leader looks at me in surprise before sneering. "Are you that eager to join your weak leader in the Well?"

The next instant I'm in front of him, practically teleporting. Red eyes widened in surprise before I slammed him into the ground, shattering the concrete as my spark pulses stronger and faster, making me glow and illuminate the room even brighter. Slowly, with care, I take Megatron's chin in my hand and turn his head until he's looking at Eric's body. He doesn't resist, stunned. "That is why you will die," I whisper, Deep Knowledge writhing and spitting up information in my emotionally consumed mind. My hand reaches out and a long, curved, golden sword appears. "I will cleanse this universe of your presence."

Megatron just barely manages to bring up his gun to block my downward stab, but even then my blade sinks through the weapon and into his arm. He bellows in anger before bucking me off. I roll to my feet and snarl. "I'll kill you!" I scream as I call my second sword into being as the blades in the air around me spin dangerously. "_**Die!**_"

His sword meets mine as I come at him again and, when he glares at me, I can see the quiver of fear the makes me purr, "Fear me. Fear your death. Because I will not forgive you. Never. _Never_. You've taken the most precious thing from me. You've taken my world and skewered it on your bloodstained blade. You will never find peace now. Not as long as I live!"

The Decepticon grunts and works frantically to keep up with my speed and attacks. And he can't. I grin happily as his blood accents my weapon. A cut here. A slash there. A stab right there. It's so easy and the blood splattering my face feels so nice. The fire in my chest, begging for vengeance, burns brighter and stronger.

Megatron snarls as I nick him on the ear with precision. "Stop playing with me!" he roars, lunging.

I giggle as I jumped up and balanced perfectly on his sword, pressing the tip of my sword to his neck. His eyes widen in shock and he freezes like a statue. My smile is sickly sweet as I cock my head at him. "I was playing so that you could maybe understand the agony I'm in," I tell him. "I would've dragged out your death until I thought that maybe you regretted your decision to kill my spark. But if you insist…" I pull my sword from his neck.

And slice down in a powerful and wide arc and jump off my perch as it falls. I smirk as my spinning blades finally begin to slow and I look at my handiwork. Megatron's eyes are blown wide as he stares down at his arms.

Arms that are on the floor and detached from his body and forever frozen in the double-handed hold Megatron had on the sword that drove itself through Eric's chest. Megatron drops to his knees, the only sound in the echoing silence. "W-What have you done?" he gasps, paling entirely to white either from horror or from the blood flooding from his cut-off biceps.

"Retribution," I answer calmly as I flick my sword and rid it of the blood on it. "You have spent eons as a warrior and now you shall never lift another weapon. You shall never take another life." I dissolved my sword and glared at Megatron. "You will spend the rest of your life useless and without a purpose. You will waste away and always think on this moment with regret, knowing that if you had spared him you would still have your arms. We are even."

Barricade suddenly materialized behind his leader, watching me warily. Quickly, he threw his larger leader over his shoulder and faded back into the darkness. My eyes flicked up as Starscream descended near where Rumble was crouched protectively over Frenzy. I watched as they retreated out of sight.

And the second they were gone it felt like a blade was stabbing through _my_ chest. With the sources of my hatred and fury gone there was only _agony_.

I gasped and clutched at my chest as my spinning blades slowly attached themselves to my body once more, becoming glowing tattoos to be seen through my shirt. Stumbling over, vision blurring with tears, I dropped next to Eric as I looked at him for the first time since he fell. His entire chest is dark with blood. His face paler than snow, making the blood staining his mouth and chin stand out brighter.

Gingerly, I picked up his limp body and held it close to my chest, burying my head in his hair. "I'm sorry," I whisper brokenly, ignoring the blood dripping on my legs. "I'm so sorry. This wasn't supposed to happen. I'm _sorry_." Tears rush down my face as I sob, ribs protesting slightly. "Please forgive me. I couldn't stop him. I promised that everything would be alright…_but you died anyway._ Eric." I rock slowly, humming brokenly as I fought to get my breathing under control.

"I love you." I run a hand through his hair, massaging and scratching. "I love you. Please come back. Please. I'll never ask for anything ever again. Just…come back please." My chin quivers as I get no response, bladed wings rattling quietly on my back. "_Eric_," I beg. "Please. Pleasepleaseplease open your eyes. You can't be dead. You're my family, remember? And family sticks together, so you can't leave. You have to come back."

A hand touches my shoulder and I flinch. "Alex…"

"No!" My grip tightens and I flare my wings aggressively. "No, he has to wake up. He _has_ to. Eric, wake up! You have to wake up!"

"Kid!"

"_Eric!_"

Hands grab my face and I'm looking in Jazz's grieving and crying face. "Look at me!" he commands. "He's dead, Alex. He's dead!" I shake my head, face twisting and tears rushing faster. "Yes, Bee. He's gone." I sob, eyes closed as if that would save me from seeing the truth. Jazz's forehead presses to mine as his hand goes around the back of my neck and I can feel him shaking in quiet sobs. "He's gone," he repeats in a thick voice. "There's nothing more we can do."

I wrench myself from Jazz and hunch over my lover's body, holding tighter as sobs wrack my body. "Eric!" I scream. "Eric please!" A body presses against my back, arms wrapping around my chest and pulling as another set of hands pulls Eric from me. "No! _NO!_ Give him back! _GIVE HIM TO ME!_"

"We need to leave, Bee," a voice tries to reason.

I fight, fingers digging desperately into the man I loved. "Stop! Stop it! Don't take him from me! Don't! Please, I'm begging you!"

I'm pulled into a hug, face forcefully buried into a chest and pinning my arms despite my fighting. "Sh," a voice croons, hand petting my head. "Sh. It's okay. He's-He's in a better place. No pain. No worries. He's gone. He's not coming back."

I scream.

And then there's a flicker.

I go silent and still. My entire focus on my twisting and writhing spark. Was that…

Another flicker.

Like a candle.

With desperate strength I manage to get enough space to turn my head and look back at Eric where he lay in a still and lifeless heat.

Flicker.

I gasped and started fighting again, hands reaching towards where I felt the faint spark. The living spark.

The next moment I'm dropping to my knees next to Eric. Something other than Deep Memories pushes me to put my hand on my lover's chest. Something else tells me to draw on my spark and funnel its energy down into the faint spark.

The second my spark energy, winding and twisting down my arm, touches that spark it explodes in life.

I gasp and smile when a white flame fills the hole in Eric's chest. Brokenly hopeful, I push more and more of my spark energy to the growing ball of energy and fire. I nearly lose my mind when the white flame disappears.

Until Eric arches and gasps for breath.

"Eric!" I sob, leaning over him and firmly keeping my arm still, feeding him spark energy.

Ocean blue eyes—_alivethankPrimusalive_—look up at me in dazed confusion. "Alex, what—" He stops as I drop down and smother him in kisses, shaking and trembling violently. "Alex, what's going on?" he demands, putting a hand down to push himself up, but I force him back down. "Alex!"

"You're alive," I whimper, burying my face in his neck, feeling the pulse of his heart and hearing the air move in and out of him. "You're _alive_. Thankyouthankyouthankyou."

"Prime?" Gabriel drops to his knees next to Optimus' head, looking pale but uninjured, which is probably due to a gingerly moving Ratchet behind him.

"Gabe?" Optimus frowns at him. "What happened? What's going on? Why is Alex…Alex, what are you doing?! Stop before you give too much!"

I cry out as Optimus' hand grabs my wrist and breaks the connection, pain lashing through my spark like a blade. The world spins and I pant heavily. My only anchor is the hand holding my wrist as all of my strength seems to drain out of me in an instant. Voices blur and slur around me as my head cracks against something, probably the ground when I fell. Hands frantically turned me over and my eyes roll, struggling to find blue eyes and black hair, hanging onto my anchor with everything I had left.

Then the hand let go of my wrist.

And I let go.

Chasing the Flame

Let it be said now that I HATE killing off characters, even bad guys.

So, for all of you that reviewed and messaged me, if you go back through our conversations I never said Eric was going to stay dead. Oh, he died. He was definitely gone for a couple of minutes. But he came back. Through his own power I might add. That was all Eric. Bee adding his spark energy wasn't needed for the process, but it speed it up a great deal. So Alex didn't bring him back either. I NEVER LIED ANYWHERE! SURPRISE!

As for Alex's transformation and freak out. Well, I would certainly freak out if anyone killed someone I loved, family or otherwise. And his transformation is explained because I borrowed and twisted something from Sleepy. See, he drew this one picture of Prime that showed how he looked in the last chapter: flame tattoos appearing on his arms, red streaks appearing in his hair. Sleepy would call Prime "Phoenix Driven" in the last chapter and I'll leave a link for the picture on my profile. So I got to thinking, if Prime had a next-stage transformation why don't I let Bee? I'll also leave a link to a picture of what Alex's spinning blades look like.

I totally tried to make this chapter a tear jerker btw. I was crying as I wrote it and my friend cried when she read it, so I'm not entirely sorry for any tears. Just is.

Two chapters left guys! Go check out the pictures on my profile and go see sleepyoldvamp over at DeviatArt. And remember to review for me!


	22. Chapter 22

…Up…

…Down…

…Up…

…Down…

I was almost reminded of a rocking chair. My mind half-heartedly searches for a possible old memory of my mother holding me and rocking me, but the only memory I can come up with is Eric rocking me as I cry.

I've been doing that a lot lately. To be fair a lot has happened lately. My mind was foggy on the exact details, but I just knew for the past few months there's always been something dramatic going on. It was exhausting.

…Up…

…Down…

At least this rocking was nice. If I already didn't feel tired I'm sure this would've made me so. Or maybe the warmth the seemed to completely surround me was what would've made me tired. I loved being warm. It just made you feel so safe and happy. Maybe that's why I originally started liking Eric. He was the epitome of fire. He was dangerous if he wished to be, but he was too kind and nice to be that except for a few occasions. So I could cuddle up to him and give him a few kisses, which he would accept with that smile that said he was happy to see me.

…Up…

…Down…

…Up…

…Down…

…Up…

…Down…

In fact, now that I think about it…it kind of felt like I was cuddled with Eric right now. I frown. That couldn't be right.

For the first time since I became aware of the rocking I began to fight the heavy blanket of exhaustion that kept me in this floating state of slow thoughts and fuzzy memories. It took a bit of work, almost enough to send me back to sleep, but I was finally aware of what was going on around me.

I was on my side and sort of rolled towards my front. My arms were curled up on my chest, relaxed fists hiding my lower face. Okay, that was how I normally slept. But what was strange was that the large pillow my head was on was moving up and down and I could hear a faint drumming thrum from it. And there was something wrapped around my back as my hair was played with.

Quietly, I peeled open my heavy and gritty eyelids and blinked the blurry room into focus. Alright. Blue wall. Eric's room. Was I sleeping with Eric? Did I dream everything?...Déjà vu much?

Gathering as much strength as I could and shaking off the lethargy invading my entire body, I shifted my head back, trying to see if I was with Eric. I grunted with the effort, but my pillow shifted and the hand touching my hair stopped.

"Alex?"

I blinked and opened my mouth to respond, but all that came out was a croak. Now that wouldn't do. Weary determination wormed its way into my sleep fogged mind as I wiggled, bringing my arms from the curled up position and throwing one of them over my pillow. Bracing myself, I moved to turn over completely while pulling myself more onto my pillow. It was a successful attempt and probably only because hands came under my arms and helped me, but I got where I wanted so I didn't mind the method.

I blinked and stared at the face before me. For a second, my vision was replaced with the image of a pale face with blood staining the mouth and chin, but I blinked it away forcefully and smiled up at my boyfriend. "Hey," I whispered softly, not sure if I could speak louder at the moment.

The oh-so-beautiful and _alive_ man smiled back, putting a hand to my cheek and rubbing while the other went back through my hair. "Hey, sleepy head," he greeted back, equally quiet. His eyes swam with relief and love, making me smile wider. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired." I lean into his hand, closing my dry eyes before forcing them open once more when I felt sleep moving in. "Did we actually go back to SI? And did all of…that really happen?" I'm not sure which answer I want. Maybe 'no' so I can just move on with accepting that I had a vivid imagination.

"Yes." His face saddens, but he doesn't stop his touches. "Everything happened." Needing to see for myself, I look down at his chest. Thankfully, he's shirtless and I can see the long pink scar running straight down the middle of his ribs. My hand comes up and I touch it, smooth and warm.

"How are you alive?" I ask, eyes tearing up a bit as the memories start becoming clear. "You were dead. I couldn't feel your spark. You…You were gone."

He nods and the hand that's in my hair moves to my back, scratching lightly. "I was. And when I was…gone I was told something. My last name isn't 'Phoenix' for nothing. My spark actually has the gift of 'mortal regeneration'. Should I die my spark will reignite and heal me."

"Oh." I pat the scar, pushing away the memory of Megatron's sword in this lovely chest. "Good. Doesn't mean you get to go dying now. I'll kill you myself."

Optimus chuckles, making me go up and down quickly as a result. "I love you, Bee."

My smile comes back and I look into those ocean eyes. "Love you too." A thought suddenly occurs to me. "So…spark mates, huh."

"Yes. It appears that we are, though you nearly killed yourself by giving so much spark energy to me."

I wince at the sharp reprimanding look I get. "I'm sorry. I wasn't exactly in my right mind." My fingers wave and point to my head. "Not wanting to believe you were dead and all and then feeling your spark again. It can throw a person for a loop."

"I'll bet. Just remember that _you_ can't come back from the dead." He watches as I nod and yawn. "Go back to sleep. Ratchet said he didn't think you'd be awake for another day at least."

Well, if he insists. I turn my head and press my cheek to his rising and falling chest. "Everyone else okay?" I mumble.

"Yes, though a few have expressed the need to kill you once you are on your feet. Something about you trying to kill yourself."

"That just seems counterproductive."

More laughing. "Go to sleep, Bee."

"Love you," I slur as I let rest come back up and wrap me in that heavy blanket.

Chasing the Flame

I don't know what possessed me to give Optimus this "Phoenix" ability. I remember vaguely reading somewhere in the Chasing the Flame AU that Optimus had a special spark and it just occurred to me "Hey. Eric Phoenix. Actual phoenix. Why the hell not? It'll be interesting." And so this idea was born. I have one more chapter left guys. It's the epilogue/cliffhanger/sequel lead on. So, Friday's the last day until I finish the sequel. Keep an eye out and I'll see you guys then!


	23. Chapter 23

"You're kidding." I look at Eric incredulously, swinging our linked arms happily as we strolled through the park.

He smiled and shook his head, bangs lifting from the motion. "No. I was this little slip of a teenager when I was in high school. Got bullied and teased."

"I'm calling bull." I nudge my shoulder to his arm to show him what I meant.

"What? You think I came out of my momma like this? I gotta start somewhere."

My roll my eyes and smile. "It's been a while since I've been here," I say, looking around the park. "Actually, the last time I was here a certain somebody was stalking me."

Cue small but adorable blush on my older boyfriend. "I didn't mean to be seen."

"Didn't…Eric, you were standing in plain sight! You could've at least sat in your car and watched."

"Like I've done a lot of stalking!"

"It's common sense!"

I laughed as his free hand came up and pressed against my face, making me turn away. "I'm not talking to you now," he says coldly even though I see the smile quirking his lips.

"Eric!" I protest, laughing as I tugged on his hand for attention.

"Nope. Not talking to you."

I pout and pull harder. "I need attention. I'm going to wilt and die if I don't get your attention!" No response. "Errrriiiiccc!" Nada. Well. If he wants to play it that way. I skip in front of him, stopping him in his path, and go on tiptoe to kiss him lightly. I feel him smile against my lips before he deepens it and dramatically bends me backwards.

I laugh, breaking the kiss as I hang onto his shoulders and tilting my head to hang down. This, of course, leaves my neck open for assault. I shout with laughter as he begins pressing raspberries to my sensitive skin, struggling half-heartedly against his hold. When he stops he purrs, "Do you admit defeat?"

I'm about to quip back that defeat isn't in my vocabulary, when something shiny catches my eye and I feel my spark pulse. I frown and squint my eyes at the shiny in a nearby tree. "What's that?"

"Hmm?"

I point my hand, still hanging backwards over his arm. "There. In the tree. See it?"

Eric pulls me back into a standing position, sharing my curious frown. "Yeah. I do."

Of course we walk over to the tree. Eric grabs it and I try and get a better look at it as he wiggles and tries to pry it loose. It kind of looked like stone or aged metal to me. My boyfriend heaves and stumbles back when the shiny thing finally comes out. He turns it over as I go to his side, peering down at what we had found. My spark begins to pulse faster when I see a familiar squiggly glyph.

Eric's hands are shaking a bit as he cradles the hand sized chunk of alien metal.

"It's…a shard of the Allspark."

Chasing the Flame

End.

That's the end of this story. WOO! My first completed story!

Thank all you that reviewed and followed and faved this story and thank you even to the people who just quietly watched as I posted. Your guys support was amazing and I'm so glad I was able to do this for you guys.

THERE WILL BE A SEQUEL to this story. It's already fully plotted out and just needs to be written and I've already written half of it. With school and work going on right now, it might take a little bit, but I'm not abandoning this story. I'll post another chapter with an author's note to let you guys know when I start posting the sequel.

Thank you guys so much for everything and I'll see you with the sequel!


End file.
